Ghost Bride

She glides down the aisle,
Her delicate feet seeming to float above
The red carpet.
Her satin-gloved hands
Clasp ethereal flowers,
Glowing in their whiteness.
She reaches her intended,
Turns to face him;
He smiles.
His fingers drift to her veil.
Slowly he lifts it,
Barley able to wait
To catch a glimpse
Of her lovely face.
Her beauty revealed at last,
He faints dead away,
Joining his wife in eternity.
Her skeletal grin mocks the assembled.