The pose is traditional – old Dr John sits upright

soft doctor’s hands (not those of a handsome miner)

grey hair and beard generous  but not his nature

Theresa, diminutive and delicate and young

stands just behind him to the side

reluctant, her hand hovers above his sloping shoulder.

The fussy gown he chose for her, high-waisted for the time

corsets the chest of a fragile bird and cages her beating heart

nor was it the fashion to smile but even so

Theresa’s lips are clenched and stretched so tightly

they are two fine lines of stitching  not to be unpicked

In that room, the patterned carpet and stained glass window

are incongruous  like the couple

perhaps, a Polonius hides in shadow behind the curtain

and out of frame someone whispers harshly

‘Seems, Madam! Nay it is, I know not ‘seems.’

And is it what it seems  will they share tender moments

disclose inner thoughts, laugh together and make plans

or will she recoil (summon images of someone else)

as Dr John unlaces her with trembling hands

and the stench of rum nuzzles at her flawless neck

- after Dr & Mrs John O'Connell, nee Cummins, in their wedding clothes 1874 - a2823375