ROUNDERLAND.

We had a plan. Then life got in the way.
We changed the shape of what would be our day.
My hen do found a different sort of start:
a family gathering, with a festival heart.

On August first, we made our little land:
bell tents, bright colours, our people close at hand.
Bucket hats and stripes, a pocket watch or two,
and yellow lanyards round our favourite crew.

A barbecue, some table games, a chance to mess about,
and photos of the daft bits I’d never leave out.
Shane in a bride-to-be veil, joining in the fun:
my hen do had found room for everyone.

Then little lights came on as daylight slipped away,
and firelight warmed the ending of the day.
Marshmallows, familiar faces, people gathered near:
our little world, our lovely lot, all here.

And Shane, when life redraws the route we thought we knew,
I still want every turning there with you.
Some pages will be messy, some plans will come undone;
we’ll keep on finding room for us in every one.

To everyone who stepped inside our little world that day,
you gave us something lovely we can always tuck away.
A field, a family, a little light and laughter;
a page we’ll carry into our madly happy ever after.