Lowering Her Head

I remember my bride
lowering her frail neck
during our Nuptial Mass,
as if her veil
was too great
a weight.

I like to imagine
her later saying, “My surname
has changed: I got
married.” And
lowering her blue eyes,
with shyness,
and the faintest blush of shame.

I like to see her
lower her head in prayer,
at our table,
answering strictly
to the rubric
in her turn.

And in bed I like to see her
capitulate, surrender,
and bow down
to my groin;
to prepare me
to impale her loins.

by Julian O’Dea

About these ads

11 responses to this post.

  1. Awh, how sweet. 40+ [?] years later, and you can still write poems about your wedding night.

    Reply

    • 27th wedding anniversary next Friday, BF.

      By the way, don’t assume all poems are strictly autobiographical.

      Reply

      • Congrats on your anniversary!

      • Thank you, BF. We went out to dinner last night, although ironically it was with two other married couples, not on our own. Contemporaries of ours.

        It was a weird day. One of the hottest ever in Eastern Australia. It reached 107 degrees Fahrenheit here in Canberra and a record 114 in Sydney. We spent a lot of time at dinner talking about bushfires.

  2. I have no idea how to comment on this one, but I liked it….speechless?

    Reply

  3. I’m not much into poetry, but this was good; and the sharp turn at the end caught me off guard.

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 35 other followers

%d bloggers like this: