Atop each table, flowers red
adorn the feast before us spread;
a salad stands at every place,
and baskets filled with garlic bread.
Some photos scattered through the room
tell stories of the bride and groom—
a picture-path from year to year
that speaks of love and friendship’s bloom.
Now, two by two, the guests arrive,
including some who had to drive
for half a day their folks to see—
the empty room has come alive.
There, just inside the entry door,
a table stands to place before
the guests a book in which to write
their names, and blessings underscore.
Around this book small treasures lie,
mementos of a day gone by;
though five and twenty years have passed,
they still the table beautify.
And in the kitchen, working fast,
two men the scent of food broadcast;
their wives assist them willingly
to ready things for our repast.
With all the preparations done,
the preacher gathers everyone,
inviting all to take a seat
and witness words exchanged anon.
The handsome groom now takes the hand
of his sweet bride, who comes to stand
alongside him whom she adores,
renewing vows with brand new band.
The words they share come from the heart,
for time has helped them to impart
new depth to vows before exchanged—
their love’s become a work of art.
The years have turned brunette to gray,
and laughter’s lines have come to stay;
yet from within a beauty shines
more glorious now than yesterday.
The service closes with a song:
“To God our praises all belong!”
They lift their thanks for love and food,
then to the waiting meal they throng.
The bride, in flowing dress of blue,
greets friends and family, old and new,
while at each table, one by one,
her husband intermingles too.
Today with friends they congregate,
who’ve come to help them celebrate
the love the Father gave to them—
His love they seek to emulate.
You ask what brought them to this place?
What kept them running in this race
when countless others lost all hope?
‘Twas God, and His amazing grace!
Copyright © 2020 Abigail Gronway – All Rights Reserved
Welcome to my series, Incremental Poetry, where each week the featured poem will be one line longer than the one I share the week before. I have no idea how long I’ll keep this up, so we’ll just have to wait and see. Thank you for stopping by.
The name Rubai is an Arabic term meaning “quatrain.” The plural form, Rubaiyat, is used to describe a series of quatrains.
This form was made famous by Edward FitzGerald’s English translation of “The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.” Robert Frost used this form in “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.”
Stanzaic: written in any number of quatrains
Metered: iambic tetrameter
Rhyme scheme: aaxa bbxb ccxc, where x may or may not be rhymed
Variation: When L3 of each stanza is rhymed, it’s called an Interlocking Rubaiyat.