Wedding Rings
Two wedding bands
Quite thin and old
Adorn your hands
Which now are cold
And rest upon your chest
I see they shine
With brassy gleam
Almost divine
They now do seem
Right here, as I stand near
Could they be gold
The purest kind
For I've been told
T'was hard to find
Such measure of that treasure
Perhaps beneath
That golden look
If tried with teeth
A person would
Reveal just cheap old steel
Now who's to blame
If that's the case
This is no shame
No judge you'll face
For cheap is poor man's keep
You did not need
An outward sign
To prove a creed
Of love so fine
On earth amongst our mirth
� 2004 Anne Maarit Ghan
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