Two Weddings and a Meadow

Yeah I know, this is just what the New Yorker wants to print.
;8^P


Two Weddings and a Meadow

My fiancé and I,
  Dining on the veranda,
Wending our thoughts through careless loves’ meander
  In the sun’s low afterglow,
Shared our views by a wanton and bucolic meadow,
  Where we agreed the food and staff were grand,
And while she fluttered her furtive hand,
  I silently prayed, that our check would not too be a grand,
When two frisky rabbits bolted by in a chase,
  Bounding zig and zag in the center of the space,
Where she, the doe, stopped sudden bowing with a ladies grace,
  While he, the buck, leaping, soared on high above her,

   "I didn’t know there would also be a show!"

We had observed this ritual three times
  Before we got the inkling
Of the shimmering golden droplets he let spray in the sunlight,
  And with which, every time he bound above her in flight,
Did he shower her, like a mid-summers’ garden sprinkler

Her: "This is a most unusual dance,"
Me: "I know what this is, this is loving Natures game of tag,
  Where in these open places, after the foreplay of their chases,
  He will grant her certain traces that are meant to be noticed,
  By other rabbits, who may be, ‘nosey’"
Her: "You call that dating?"
Me: "I call it… a rut,"
Her: "And you aspire to this?"
Me: "It may be, in comparison, it’s our lives whose are the hum-drum,
  We, who sit here, judging severe, these honest rabbits in their… scrum,
  For spying on them asks me, are we bereft of love’s natural lust,
  Never to pair in such delights, as they do in their pissy meadow love,
  With it’s warm golden showers, ‘fore the setting of the sun?"

And then, she held a round thing before me,
  Not gold, but the one thing we bound with, us, did I see,
Her: "I’m sorry, but I’m giving back your ring"