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Click hereWearing my barong, you see me sitting in my chair,
Sunshine beating down on me where I have no more hair.
Under the gazebo, my dear daughter’s getting wed
After I have left her there and kissed her pretty head.
They have written vows declaring how their love is true,
Now they are repeating them as they are told to do.
Saying that they’ll be as one till death has done them part,
Words that they have memorized; they say them from the heart.
Now the pastor does his job and says they’re man and wife,
Tells them they shall be together all throughout their life.
Now my wife is weeping as she’s clinging to my arm.
Praying that the man will keep our daughter safe from harm.
Now it’s time for pictures, her and us and all the rest.
Groups of two or three or more, we try to look our best.
Banquet in the dining room with chicken on a plate.
Bridal party sitting in the front and looking great.
Though I’m not a dancer, now it’s time to take the floor.
Waltz around the room because I can do nothing more.
Turn my daughter over to her newly taken spouse.
Later on, my wife and I return to empty house.
A good narrative poem. Sentences seem steady, but the emotion goes down and down to the lost.
A look at the lighter side of Box. The scene ~ the daughter's wedding ~ Going from joyous to sadness upon returning home to an empty house. Lovely picture sets the mood.