Painted Nails


Bridal magazines


between ravening fingers.

Painted nails

scrape silk and lace.

Smiling sequined brides shine

beside spruce grooms.

Images describe bright colour schemes;

ribbons and roses

twisted into cunning, pink posies

pick out the chosen hues of the theme.

Six months to go,

and she’s eager to be

the apex of attention, and the envy of friends —

yet each time she sees her swain,

she swallows a sorry slug of doubt,

as, deep down, she knows

the  magnetic attraction

was born in the beat

and heated blood of a nightclub,

now passion has flown

and she’s empty of  love.


©Jane Paterson Basil

16 thoughts on “Painted Nails

  1. This is so true. I’ve heard often of brides who have the biggest, most expensive wedding, only to separate from their spouse within a couple of years, less even. You’re right – the wedding, being a princess for a day, is the main attraction, superseding the attractions of the grrom by some way. Just horrible really. Great poem, Jane. Love how you managed to capture the desperation, the clawing at the magazines and dresses as if she can get something substantial from them

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I think I may be given a major role in a fairytale wedding in the next year or so. I’ll just grit my teeth and smile.
      I could start ranting about hen/stag nights/ weekends, but I’ll leave that for another day 😉

      Liked by 1 person

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