Marriage: Making a Meal of It

The table set before them, the fine banquet on display.
The candles lit let shadows dance around the red bouquet.
Sat next to each other, eyes locked with love so true.
He took first delicious bite as she smiling swore “I do”.

Their meal began in reverse, for first bite was so sweet.
Look longingly on her beautiful body; good enough to eat.
Licking lips as sumptuous sundae mirrored what they felt.
Neither suspecting soon that their love would wither, melt.

Honeycomb honeymoon and aphrodisiacs ate at their leisure.
Enjoying one another; a slow, sensuous, sensitive pleasure.
Fingers climb up her leg, claim inch after inch of skin.
Enjoying each other openly, only soon the end would begin.

Years pass by with each every edible morsel much the same;
staler, staler still, seems like boredom be their middle name.
Wine turns to vinegar, every single sip supped sour and dry.
Somewhere along the way they both forgot how to try.

The waiter returns to their table, asks if everything’s alright.
They don’t even have the words left to answer him tonight.
Neither prepared to take a bite from another agonising course.
So they place their final order: a turgid takeaway divorce.

For love to lead to such sadness, should be deemed a crime.
I hope they fare better if they dine elsewhere another time.

Copyright © 2016 Philip Craddock. All rights reserved.

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