As, with this gas-mask I thee wed,
Zed-missiles whistle overhead.
Machine-gun fire to left and right
reminds us of our parlous plight.
Our wedding bed is now debris,
our Best Man is a refugee:
he had a funny speech prepared
but scarpered when the sirens blared.
Amazing how war can transform:
our Bridesmaids are in uniform
and crouch in trenches, day and night,
untrained, but still prepared to fight.
The other day, the church got hit
but church or no church, we’ll commit
and, though we can’t walk down the aisle,
let’s opt for marriage Ukraine-style.
Richard Fleming
Image : Behance.net
