Pickoer and Llorien
As the young colt frolicked and played,
His mother watched and prayed.
Bowing her head in respect,;
Pickoer, her son, the prayer's subject.
"May my son someday find
A mare lovely, good and kind,
To love him always, strong and true,
This, my gods, is my prayer to you."
While in yet another place
A mother watched her daughter win a race.
She also a prayer to the gods did say,
To help her daugher, Llorien, when she'd wed someday.
"May my daughter someday find
A man handsome, good and kind,
To love her always, strong and true,
This, my gods, is my prayer to you."
Pickoer and Llorian matured and grew,
Then one day they met each other and knew
They were in love, of doubt no trace,
Despite the differences of race.
They both prayed that they did find
A sweetheart gentle, good and kind,
To love them always, strong and true,
This, their gods, was their prayer to you.
Now they stood at the altar that day,
Pledging hearts and hands forever that way.
Pickoer, centaur and Llorien, human,
May the gods eternally bless your union.
May the two of you always find
Your spouse gentle, good and kind,
That you love each other always, strong and true,
This, Llorien and Pickoer, is our prayer for you.