Aisle Poem by Olorode Olorunleke

In a glamour looks
She made her way through the aisle.
Making her feet to dazzle the soil
For the joy that lays in her heart,

Like the Angel
She appeared to meet the bridegroom,
Wearing a purified white of Mary.
Who is this like star appearing?

That all were made
To recall his second coming.
Could this be true
That nothing is laid in this purity?

Not of the fact in losing the joy of motherhood
To being a slay mama.
Nipples have been made slack
In the joy of social vibes.

Yet her way was found
In to make a blissful vow.
Can the creator be fooled?
Marriage honourable in all, bed not defiled.

This will never be done
In a recent time?
oh it can,
Less we continue to dwell in deceit,

And our glory be made waste in hell,
That at last our body
will not be made to walk through the aisle
While under the everlasting condemnation,