Graceful, like the gathering of taffeta on her gown. White as the fine French lace veiling her auburn hair. Glistening in the moonlight, like her jeweled tiara. Snow—cool crystals of confetti in the crisp, evening air.
Thoughtful, at the window, she breathes out the past. Now dew, on the clear-glass pane, lets memories linger. Seizing the moment before someone says, “It’s time,” She draws two hearts entwined with her manicured finger.
Drifting down the aisle, her long-awaited walk to a new world, Like pristine snow as it settles on unfamiliar ground. Strangely aware she is making an exit and an entrance. Looking in his eyes, she knows where her heart is bound.