Is this the part where I say I do?
I lost track somewhere around
us being gathered here together?
I don’t recall anyone objecting.
My mind was somewhere else,
I had this image of us both older
weathered by the years, a scene
of us driving to your mother’s
every Sunday for roast beef.
Discussions about good gravy,
the dog’s arthritis, your sister,
the cost of bedding plants
Do you take this man?
Yes I take him, all of him.
I take his mother, her better gravy,
her hobbling dog, the sucked a lemon sister,
the cost of marigolds and geraniums.
I do, if it’s the price for loving you.
By Andrea Porter
St Ives, Cambridgeshire
This poem was selected as a runner-up of a nationwide poetry competition run by Marriott Hotels in March 2011.