the king mislaid his
blueprint for the stars
and cries at night
into his golden shadow
lost courtiers kneel
before the showcase cakes
little children may not eat
no matter how long they say
they are sorry
that the toeshoe thistledown moon
is slipping farther everyday
down the rimed rose campion
windows of the castle.
but they will keep their
diamond latchkeys safe
at this rhapsodic distance from the sun-
from the sparklers' fizzy dreaming at the end-
from that last summer-
and bless - and bless-
eternal lily snows on the fleeting ground
mary angela douglas 25 may 2011
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