Twenty years ago today . . .
I heard about the radio contest a few months before I was to be married. Open to anyone intending to tie the knot that year. The contest was to write something – anything – about your upcoming wedding. The winner – as chosen by the station - would receive $50,000 for wedding expenses. Notable entries would be read on the radio each day.
At the time I was 34 – a long-time, some thought everlasting, bachelor. I definitely had personal commitment issues, but I had found someone I deeply loved and had proposed, with the moon-lit Pacific crashing the rocks at the base of a cliff providing the perfect back-up chorus. Graciously, she had said “yes”, but she did ask me to repeat the bended knee part because she hadn’t taken me seriously at first.
$50,000 in wedding assistance sounded amazing to me, so I thought I might as well throw my hat into the ring. We were living in Sydney, Australia at the time, and I thought something in the style of “pub poetry” with a lead and a “quote along” verse might have a shot. (Keep in mind that even among Christians social mores concerning alcohol consumption are somewhat different in Australia than in Bible Belt U.S.A.) This piece, which can be misunderstood, was intended as a marriage metaphor. That hesitancy so common before saying, "I do." The Rose Coloured Beast is marriage herself.
Rose Coloured Beast
A heavy fog besets me
As I peer into the gloom
The noisy pub impounds me
And I poach about the room
It is a “she” I understand
Staggering to my feet
I claw, I grasp, I ask my friend
What sort of creature that I seek?
A hand upon my shoulder
A shout into my ear
A distant roll of thunder
Implodes a warning here.
A rose coloured beast
In a form fitting dress
Is not a pretty sight
For the young or distressed.
Velvet eyes they lay snares
While the body she ripely purrs
I wrap my arms around her waist
My intestines begin to stir
Kneeling down to stop the rumble
I slip and do the marriage squeal
Why oh why I asked those words
I never can reveal.
And a daftly tinny squawk
Stays my despondent cry
As I fall into a stupor
It does warn and ask me why.
A rose coloured beast
In a form fitting dress
Is not a pretty sight
For the young or distressed.
But you must see the beauty
Of a loving tender wife
And the fields of flowers blooming
As you begin your new life
What loads of muck I ponder
And face the wisdom spewed
Now give me 50 grand
To avoid a fighting feud.
The masque from three true reasons
Smiles wanly back at me
Waltzing o’er my open tomb
And kicks me in the knee.
A rose coloured beast
In a form fitting dress
Is not a pretty sight
For the young or distressed.
A radiant charm does glisten
‘Cross the sandy beach ashore
The beauty body beckons
As it saunters to the fore
My dreamy trance awakens
And I claw into the sand
For I know now but cannot tell
The 50 grand that truth demands
For her to look so well.
My fantasy she mocks me
And casts a shadow pale
What I have always wanted
But received instead a cell.
A rose coloured beast
In a form fitting dress
Is not a pretty sight
For the young or distressed.
The aisle it was a narrow
An egg splayed to be fried
I stood in stock still terror
And waited for the bride
I wished that I had dreamt
I should have surely thought
Of 50,000 reasons
To halt this sorry plot.
The priest he spoke a whisper
To me hypnotized at bay
He said son you must remember
There is no other way.
A rose coloured beast
In a form fitting dress
Is not a pretty sight
For the young or distressed.
A finality charm descends
Upon those gathered at the fore
One last chance to make escape
Before fate has closed the door
50,000 reasons
May have brought me here
But only three ask me remain
Is it love or is it not?
Is it commitment or is it not?
Is it life or is it not?
I look to her and see
What I should have seen before
She loves me, I love her
And we will face together
Whate’er life has in store.
This rose coloured beauty
In the form fitting dress
Is now my lovely bride
And I will always love her best.
Rose Coloured Beast did not win the $50,000. My archaic, cliche-ridden amalgamation also failed to make the cut as a notable entry to be broadcast over Sydney radio. No Robert Frost medal. But I received something far more valuable than $50,000 or three minutes of fame. You see, my wedding was exactly 20 years ago today. We now have two children, a great home. The commitment that we both made on that day has been so worth it – far more valuable than what that Sydney radio station offered two decades ago. I love you Lucy and happy anniversary!
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