The suns horizon has barely risen,
As the clouds in their hues of gray,
Shroud over it,
As if to threaten rain,
The sun nonetheless continues brimming on
today,
For today on occasion so special is to occur
Upon the knolls of this dark grassy plain,
In the small farmhouse,
The father sits at his table arranging the
documents for his arrangement,
The mother wipes the flours dust,
Or possibly a tear,
Her four eldest have arrived and wait in
their overcoats,
And as they patiently wait for the rooster
to crow,
Not a sound stirs them from their seat at
the table,
As they wait for the peaking pale light of
the sun,
It is the call of the cuckoo in the distance
in which the mother gathers her two eldest
daughters,
The two eldest sons with their father
depart for the barn,
The arrangement is to take place outside-
She was a pale looking lamb,
Circles of deep sleeplessness plagued her
brown lenses-
When her mother and eldest sisters came
for her, they noticed how gaunt she
seemed,
Her hands had a death-like grip on her floral sheets,
She had been staring the wardrobe that held her future,
She loosened them as soon as she noticed their familiar faces,
Her mother and sisters went at once to the wardrobe and took out
A veil,
A dress,
A basket of flowers,
She dresses,
The veil trains behind her,
The dress reminds her of a doll,
Her hair is arranged in a crown of braids atop her chestnut head,
They decorate this crown with the flowers,
And paint her lips a light pink hue,
Her face was painted a light flush color,
The bags under her eyes covered,
They threw the veil over her face,
They left and she was left to look at the phantom in the mirror,
When she could no longer face herself,
She wandered over to the window and looked out at the field,
