Vows.

Their fingers lace,
their eyes sparkle, like diamonds,
as they wait, quietly on the wooden bench.
The rose in her cheeks warms the solemn room.

You can come in now, says the judge.
They exchange an apprehensive smile,
tears pool in her freshly lined eyes.

He hands her a simple bouquet of yellow daisies,
and she delicately holds them in her small, shaking hands.
Well, do I look okay? she asks,
as she smoothes the wrinkles from her worn ivory dress.

He pulls her close and kisses her sweetly on the temple.
We’re ready he whispers.
She nods, and they follow the judge through the open door.