On a spring morning, full of sun and wind and sleet,
I met joy and hope, a child bride on a city street.
A lazy Saturday on the cobbles of a windy sunlit way.
Eyes meet as I glance, entirely by happenstance.
or perhaps, through the hand of a God of fortune.
Her smile struck me. Sublime, joy in those shining green eyes.
A cynical smirk fades, Jaded by life and man’s malicious art
Something in this child’s sweetness warmed this cold heart.
She was maybe eighteen, no more I am sure,
Smiling. On the cusp of life, about to become a wife.
The swell of motherhood hidden, behind a bouquet of blue.
A boy. I smile, she smiles. I am no one to her but I share her joy.
The boy is handsome in a badly groomed sort of way,
Hair thus. With oil that I detest. Shaved? Yes, but stubble left,
He wore a black suit. A white shirt with no tie. I sigh, bewildered
She deserves more. A tie, it’s not so much to ask on such a day
Children only, so innocent to old eyes. But still! He wore no tie.
She merits at least that. These memories must in time, stand a test.
So I slip off my own tie. It is black by luck. And silk of course.
I like it, but I don’t hesitate. I offer my hand and my tie to the boy.
And he accepts my gift, a bemused smile. Thinking, I’m sure,
I am not some stranger but in fact a special arranger of black silk ties.
And so on the day new life begins, I look into green eyes and grin.
She smiles and I nod happy, an accord of sorts. I turn then and walk on
They stepped in to a building, to exchange vows or swear oaths,
I don’t know how these things go. I am beyond that age now.
They were gone and so was I. A brief meeting but of meaning.
The sun for a while, shines differently from the bright clearing sky.
Shadows tumble, dancing on down the city street, in front of me
the day now replete with joy, the simple gift of a tie and green eyes.
© Dave Kavanagh 2016