Brocade (Gold-Leafed Were The Tears She Cried)

gold-leafed were the tears she cried

into the mirroring brook.

those of slender means would know

and dreaming children at their sums

in a dress of apricot and Empire-styled-

just how far she had to go.

gold leafed were the tears she cried:

peach-bright, mourning the last of the pears.

and ancient ballads prophesied

the demise of plum blossoms

all around her;

all around her, the twilight of the flowers;

all around her, the lavender snows.

gold-leafed were the tears she cried

and for the children at their sums:

simpatico, in a dress of flowing apricot

and velvet in the waning hours

of Light

mary angela douglas 30 september 2013