by Nick Gisburne
His earthy laughter barrels round the room,
Colliding with the souls his hatred hurts,
A bloody-minded swipe to slur the groom,
Rejoicing in the pleasure he perverts.
A mother bravely stands to silence him,
But finds herself reminded of her sins.
Ferocious, filled with malice, to the brim,
He turns, at last, towards the bride, and grins.
He spits a shameful story, quick to tell,
A tale to torture every happy heart.
As if by some extraordinary spell,
The couple fight, forever torn apart.
Their parents see a romance out of reach,
But thank the preacher for a splendid speech.
As previously mentioned, this was a short return to write 25 more sonnets, so as to complete the fifth book in my Story Sonnets series. 10 days, 25 sonnets, but now I need to edit, illustrate, and edit some more, to get to the point where it can be printed. No doubt I will return... eventually!
