Wedding Villanelle by Elizabeth Tessier

Like wreaths of veil November’s blowing snow.
The guest filled boat white-trained toward the place.
Honiton lace frosted the long windows.

A giddy bustle muted from below,
a batter stirred, for luck, a little taste,
like wreaths of veil November’s blowing snow.

Upstairs the silver polished to a glow:
the epergne with three graces at its base,
Honiton lace frosted the long windows.

At eight sleigh bells rang back precious cargo.
The dancers silk swung in suited embrace
Like wreaths of veil November’s blowing snow.

The gallant knight put on a Laird’s bright show.
His hospitality filled the grand space
Honiton lace frosted the long windows.

Each breath a veil, each winter wind to blow
served but to lend the blossomed bride their grace.
Like wreaths of veil November’s blowing snow.
Honiton lace frosted the long windows.

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