The Ballade of Three Sisters
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Beat breaks between trombone blasts, syncopate
Swings left then right, a swivel broadened blast
Of brass; wide eyed fair ladies dressed to date,
Gents, shoulders back, stand straight as jugs of iced
Cucumber strawberry - décor - fruit fast
To fall but gently, one by one to fall
Below the spigot; spirits rising fast,
Three sisters, three have wed, one summer ball.
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But grinding, lurching preludes; fugues, Bach; fate
Was begging: “You! Surrender! Chase your lust!”
With winding beaded prayers she made; to make
Intentions to her Maker: “King and Christ
My intercessor: Chaste, I’ll pray and fast!
This dearest husband, shield him from the fall
And keep him kind until we meet at last.”
Three sisters, three have wed, one summer ball.
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Bated breath, wait! Ah, the groomsmen are late!
Be patient, stay strong. Look! They’re here at last!
Horns blaring, blasting; ball in full swing. Great
This pace, cascading brides and grooms at last
Now lead; the sound of silk swish swirling past;
The dancer’s whirring, outer boundary gowns fall
Then fill; guys spin and catch their gals. At last,
Three sisters, three have wed, one summer ball.
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These gifts of selves - we’re one - we’ve sacrificed,
The joys of children fill our house and hall.
Vocation - vows now honored, praised and prized.
Three sisters, three have wed, one summer ball.
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- Gary Edward Geraci