So long ago when we were young.
Drenched in sweat from humidity
Of a steamy hot August day.
The minister droned on and on.
A big fly landed on his nose,
Making us laugh uncontrollably,
And we could think of nothing else.
We heard not our "holy" promises
As we recited rehearsed words
Memorized for the occasion.
They were not words written by us,
But expected by tradition;
Expected by church and family.
Voiced vows were unnecessary,
For we were already one.
Our hearts were bound together
Without the need for public display.
If we could live the day again,
We would go to a private place
In a quiet, cool, green forest
And confirm our promise of love
By looking in each other's eyes
Our arms holding each other close,
With sounds of Nature all around.