Poetry speaks, I listen

Wedding day

It's a late spring afternoon.
Light flows in through the row of paint chipped windows in the small rustic ballroom.
Particles of golden dust are floating in the air almost like they are frozen in time.
Creating the perfect picturesque painting.
There's a click of high heels on the already scratched wood floor.
There's a quite hum of classical music coming from the turn table in the corner.
And in the center of the room, the lady that I love.
Skin glowing angelically from soft, warm light.
She's spinning in circles so that her beautiful yet simple white dress is floating just above the floor.
I quietly try and sneak in the room because I love watching her dance.
It's kind of off beat but perfect at the same time.
The door squeaks.
In my head I curse myself; at the same time she smiles but her eyes remain closed.
"Trying to be sneaky are you?"
You can hear the happiness in her voice and I love that.
I walk over to her and join in with her spinning.
Her eyes finally open and look into mine.
I feel completely at home.
She comes closer as the music changes and we dance the slow dance meant for tonight.
"you know it's bad luck to see the bride early"
she scolds still smiling.
"I don't care"
I whisper as I go to dip her.
She comes back up giggling.
Her dark hair falls over one shoulder. We kiss and I can tell she's nervous. "We should go" she says
I step back, take both of her hands, and smile my most reassuring smile.
I can tell she's just as eager as I am.
I turn still holding her hand.
When we are out of the room she turns to go back to her dressing room.
I just stand there watching her go. Heels clicking, hair swaying.
It still amazes me that everyday for along as I live, in sickness and in health, till death do we part, I will have the pleasure of looking into those extraordinary eyes and dancing with my love.
I can't wait.