As the early sun’s first ray’s light upon the young girl’s gaze. Motes of dust in the golden light dance in the mirror her wedding gown catches her sight.
In her stomach a thousand butterflies sweep and swirl it is so much for her to take in, this little girl. Her mother’s headdress on her head, how could she send her baby to that old man’s bed.
Last week with her friends she played, giggling in class at the exciting plans they had made. Running dancing in the lea, happy laughing dancing free that is how a young child’s life should be.
The scent of her poesy fills her nose. It is so pretty lilies,daisies and a perfect rose. Again her stomach turned thinking of the horrid things she had learned. Her mother had sat her on her knee and explained exactly how things had to be.
Now she knew why mother cried as she told the future and beg that she comply. She had begged and cried yet her parents ears were closed, she was to be a bride. A rich merchant fat and old was the fiancé to whom she had been sold. Her father bade her do his will to up hold the family honour her mother begged to comply and things would be easier on her.
As the early sun’s first ray’s light upon the young girl’s gaze. Motes of dust in the golden light dance in the mirror her wedding gown catches her sight.
Author: willowdot21
Female, wife, full time mother and Grandmother. I am not as happy go lucky as I used to be but I am still bubbling along on simmer! I have three handsome sons all grown and flown.The youngest married with a beautiful wife and two sons of his own. Back in 2010 I was working, running a home, driving and socializing then bang in a split second all that was gone. I had an accident at home. I broke my back, not for the first time, I had broken it 10 years previously as well. Unfortunately this time I had broken it really badly and it was truly messed up so I had to have two operations. I was told before each operation that the outcome could mean I spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair. Still as some guy once wrote "I am still standing " yes "better than I ever was " I no longer use the walking stick . I had lots of friends before the accident but when things like this happen, you loose most of them. Their lives move on and mine stood still and so they left me behind ...I know that is just the way life is but it hurt and always will. Then I looked around and saw those who were still there for me, these friends are the roses in my garden they need to be tended well. They are the diamonds in the dust. I will of been married 53yrs this comming year. I have found different ways to approach life, use my pain befriend it almost...yer right , well that is what they tell me at the pain clinic ROFLMAO ...... if only I could! I have found an outlet for my fears, frustrations and night terrors . I have started writing poetry if that name can be applied to my writing. I hope I do not come over as a moaning winger. I hope I am past all that. I also hope that you might see how the poetry is moving from very dark through the grey and hopefully in to light.
My back is no longer straight it is C shaped because of the injury and I have lost two and a half inches in height but my Pilates and Core teachers have helped me to stand up as straight and be as strong as possible. Pain and depression are still hanging on my arm but I have weapons to use against them and if I say so myself I cope well.
I have made lots of new friends, real diamonds. I am also very grateful for all the support and help I have encountered here on Wordpress. Hugs and welcome to everyone who visits.
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As the early sun’s first ray’s light upon the young girl’s gaze. Motes of dust in the golden light dance in the mirror her wedding gown catches her sight.
willowdot21 
With a broken excuse of preserving face
He Plucked a tiny vein of his cold heart
Sold it with no single trace of humane grace
The end of a dead start….
:'(……Peace & Light
Mira your comment is so sad and so true 😦
your story is heart-breaking….executed innocence:'(
O’ please erase “to” through my 3rd line…
It is so very sad , and thank you for your touching lines ! I shall erase the to for you, though it did not mar the verse or it’s meaning. xx
Very different take; wedding days are supposed to be joyous but here it seems to be the opposite, because the girl is being forced. Very sad. The image of the dancing dust was well done; as if they are happy just as everything seems on the outside, but on the inside its darkness; even in the golden sun.
You have caught the right interpretation, the appearance of all being joyous and the true pain that is involved. Why marry a young child to an old man, why. I may have to nod to the custom but I shall never accept or understand it.
Such a sad tradition – arranged marriage. Well done, Willow!
Yes and it is even harder for young girls who have been westernised who are whisked from school at a tender age then taken to their homeland on pretence of going on holiday to be married , sometimes to good men sometimes to bad, sometime to old men sometimes to young men . Some are well treated and some abused some even have to take on the man’s child. Never mind the culture shock, it must be lonely horrifying ….. I know it is a custom but I fight with myself to see how in any circumstance this custom of arranged marriages sometime involving children can be right.
This a poem I wrote on that subject earlier this year. https://willowdot21.wordpress.com/2012/04/13/holiday-surprise/ I hope I have not said too much.
Truly tragic… Can we ever give this up! … 😦
If only we could stop this if only. What can we do about customs centuries old, the poeple who adhere to those customs will not listen they believe they are doing nothing wrong! So hard ………..
It’s a sad sad society, innocence shatters right here.
Yes it is truly a sad state of affairs.
We are to blame, collectively. If we cannot stop it we should support the people who are trying to. Taking small steps, like this_ a wonderful piece_ leads to bigger achievements.
Yes we must even if it is just reminding people that this is happening. Here is another poem on the same subject but from a different perspective.