Happy Death

So many things left undone
So many people I pushed aside
Now in this cold room I am about to expire
What will happen on the other side?
There is nothing left to do, but pray
So with barely a whisper,
I ask for St Joseph's intercession
Grant me a happy death

Bridal House

There's an empty hook for your coat
A padded bench by the window
I know how you love to read
Fresh flowers on the table
A quilt made by my mother is folded on the bed
It isn't much
Only one room
But it's yours
Ours, my bride

Confession

What started off as a History lesson
Ended in a confession of love
I hide behind my hands
Does she not see the wrinkles on my face
In twenty years I will be an old man
My old body will give out on me
Abandonment will be my final act
My knees ache from all the praying
Is this what my Lord delivers
Anthony, Anthony, say something
Silence
Anthony
My tears tell her everything

Wedding Day Bombing

The white dress my mother made for me
Now is covered in soot
My husband with blood above his brow
Lays at the foot of the altar
Rumble blankets us
Husband and wife
Was this how it was in Pompeii
Rome
Constantinople
The rosary I gripped so tightly
Is now broken
Broken like me

Proposal

It was five degrees that day
With an open collar you came towards me
I was shivering so
Your embrace took me by surprise
Chaste though it was
Right there on the street we confessed our love
As the wind picked up we walked to a church
On bent knee he asked my heavenly father for my hand

Night of His Birth

Before you are the gates of Bethlehem
The journey is nearly over
And your time is fast approaching
Joy engulfs the heart
The tiny baby that blessed your womb will soon be your arms
There is no fear that you and your husband will have no place to stay
God will provide
You belly moves
A star shines brightly overhead
Joseph it is time

Sweet Bread

My hands grow tired from kneading the dough
Over and over I ask Mama Mary to pray for me
The sweet bread has to be right

The house is dark
The sweet bread Mama made is waiting for me
In my white dress, red sash, and a wreath with candles on my head
I wake the house up and deliver sweet bread to my parents and my brother

This is the first year without Mama
St Lucy was her patron saint and on her feast day it became our mini Christmas
I miss her so
The house is dark, the only light, candles
The sweet bread has to be right