Maybe it was God's predestination,
That when a stranger passed by my gate
Softly spoke my female intuition:
"There he is, the man to be your mate".
Two weeks I knew him, then I asked his hand
His heart elsewhere, so it was not meant
When he gave three years try to my far land.
With three now twenty-one: time well spent.
The assignment was to write a poem of one or two four-line stanza's, metered and with an abab rhyme scheme.
I found that I couldn't fit my marriage in 8 lines, but it was too late to abandon ship. Perhaps I'll add more lines in future.
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