The New Bride

The stress of the about to be bride,
Laying on the bed too tired to glide into the night,
Bones aching from her busy drives,
Seeing over endless plans with no time,

Still at night she lies awake,
Thinking of what lies ahead the next day,
All to make that perfect day,
Start of a journey with no time to waste,

But for now her body sings the weary blues,
When all's done and her man is hers alone,
She'd finally have the rest of her life.