Saturday, February 17, 2018

For Those In Their Vast Slumber

we'll make thimbleberry jam
and sing to sleep under a juniper moon
those who came too early

those who left too soon
weaving from prairie grasses
the cradle for their return

the ships to traverse
the seashell silence of mermaids

binding with a rainbow thread
the great wound of the skies
over us

until the deep snow flies
covering the red clover.

mary angela douglas 17 february 2018

Friday, February 16, 2018

They Snatched Beauty Out Of The Air

they snatched beauty out of the air
and rose above the world despair
their own cinderella lives in tatters

no coach approaching on the jeweled road

I wonder how they dreamed
and made the dream enlarge beyond all
common, miserable matters

until it eclipsed almost completely

the penury they endured,
the utter obscurity
did God in a whispered word sustain them

and walking out of pocket on the avenues
did mysterious flower laden trees
fling down their blossoms continuously before them

that they should be the Kings of spring

so that they knew Someone knew
and told the angels what they were doing
at what cost

and led all the hidden graces
to their decrepit doorways
and made them believe

against the preponderance of evidence
their beleaguered lives accumulated

they were the chosen to endure, to claim even
one lost lovely word or image
true knights forever unheralded, if need be,

in search
of the beautiful, the unmitigated grail.

mary angela douglas 16 february 2018

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

The Thing You Find At The Bottom Of The Pile

the key to fairyland
your one way ticket expired to the village of creampuffs (sorry carl sandburg)
the professional's guide to psychic picks for the great race tracks of the world, guaranteed (1925-1972)
your family doctor's excuse to stay home from school during the Shirley Temple film TV Marathon
plus his prescription for malteds and lollypops and chocolate covered anythings.galore.
your great grandmother's triple juice recipie for combatting the flu
your 1958 F.A.O. Christmas Toy Catalog with circled items reposted to Santa Claus
your certificate for free ice cream for life from Howard Johnson's with the original 28 flavor menu
your diamond plated Mickey Mouse Club Ears
the original map from 1849 to all the goldmines out West
some vintage crystal slippers only slightly scratched
ditto with the magic wand...
enough S&H green stamps to purchase a Cape Cod cottage complete with chintz covered furniture.
the magic fishbone...darn it. I knew it had to be in here somewhere.
the cat that choked on half of the magic fishbone.

Green And White

imagine the greenest place
and you'll go there
every time you close your eyes

and you will feel so cooled
by the green winds
and the cherry lime surprise

and wade in the green water

and sunbeams through the trees
will whisper emeralds, emeralds.
you will drink in green

green Time
and be quenched and breathe, breathe
green so deeply until you are clearly filled

with the sparkliness of it all,
the April facets
and to yourself you will hum

a festive green song
at the behest of angels
that wlll cause everything sweetly, serenely

to break into small white flowers

mary angela douglas 14 february 2018

Tuesday, February 13, 2018

I Think Of Monumental Beauty Often

I think of monumental beauty often
of the rise and fall of cloud civilizations
the pink orange folds of the

drifting sheep and who will corral them in my sleep
my thoughts in the red clover meadows grazing
near the clouded over Andromedas

while the school films drone on

I think of the histories of small pools reflective of
the cloud empires and how I want to live in
their green blue world

as though it could be a second and an emerald birth
with art deco sapphire accents
into coolness rippling out from the center

of small mirrors

where would I be today if I had studied assiduously
dates, treaties, the names of kings
I don't know

I remember swinging almost to the edge of clouds
their vast embroidered cities of loveliness tinted
like the earliest paintings of the Renaissance

then disappearing as if the skies
were one vast pearl.

mary angela douglas 13 february 2018


they thought I was blind music
in my summer cathedrals
amid the pink and the green

of odd water coloured days
or was I white rains on
the crackled pavements

the dissonant flute
at their epic parades
with not much to say;

pastel as ice creams
uncertain as a sigh.
I was the fern imprinted

on small stones
who loved cool hollows
and being alone.

the hollowed out earth
the coolness,
the canopy of leaves.

and peach starred fairy stories.
any breeze
in between shadows of the pressed flowers;

the mist of small waterfalls for hours
and more than these, the morning glories,
the rainbows of the semiprecious.

jewelry lent by God.

you said standing in her dream
how can she stand at all
where the moss is slippery

and she might fall into the streams;
who would see her? strange fish,
a mere ghost on unruled paper.

they turned laughing away at this
as if they owned the sunshine gold.
held daisy chain sway.

but I remember those summers,
that they were indelible.
my soul piled high with white violets.

mary angela douglas 13 february 2018

Monday, February 12, 2018


read this poem in the language of snow
your last thought as you turn to go
read it in silence
becoming yourself the syllables of a silence
no one owns
read it in all colours
or as apple tree shade
as if it were transparent or
the last call made between God and ourselves
as if it were the last pear shining
in the orchard of the skies
read it and tell no lies.
read it in transitory gleams
read it as if you were breathing flowers
read it as you would be read to
as a child, floating on a stream of, is this possible?
read it and bring on the milder weather
let your heart think evenly silverly
so our boats do not tip over
on the lake of dreams.
mary angela douglas 13 february 2018