love poem- my style

in a tiny cemetary
in a hamlet close to Dover
stand the forlorn little tombstones
of a young bride and her lover

oh the sorrow was tremendous
the whole town was quite bereaved
for their deaths came unexpected
right upon their wedding eve

they interred the bodies side by side
while the ringer rung a knell
and above the graves they placed the bud
of the rose from the groom's lapel

time has gone by as it as it always does
and new years have been brought in
but the illy-fated couple
have still not gone forgotten

for on the anniversary
of the night that should have been
if you look out on the graveyard
there's a wonder to be seen

two skeletons will rise up
from their long and peaceful rest
though the rose bush's roots are tangled
in the groom's now boney chest

watch him pick each flower as daintily
as his fingers will allow
then he weaves it in a garland
wich he then places on her brow

and he bends over to kiss her
for he never had the chance
then to the music of the crickets
they both join hands and dance and dance