A duvet cover to sew for our married bed,
epithalamions to write, to bust out of my head.
Ice cream to mix out of lemons and sugar,
bread to bake, to eat with the liquor.
Hair to trim and earrings to glue,
bookshelves to move, so our books will make do.
A house to clean from the door to the bathroom,
flowers to buy, to ward off the grey gloom
(in case the day is gusty and rainy -
but then again we'd resort to Seamus Heaney).
Vows to compose and an official to meet,
relatives to bring through the mazes of streets.
High heels for practice and blue shoes for whimsy,
and no one that night will look as sad as a pansy.