Saturday, November 30, 2013

Swallow-like The Eyebrows Of The Poem Flew Far

swallow-like the eyebrows of the poem flew far
beyond the countries of the tested
where there were clouds of fresh cream

and no essays.

silkenly the eyebrows of the poem arose
over the rose-roofed mountains of the pure
kingdoms where wisdom is not distilled

where there are no laboratories no

psychology no baited hooks.
no patterns of speech to be blue
penciled, no workshops

 and thusly,no publishers

and in the orchards frothed with moon

they settled, like meringue on a pie
in a show room window with the blinds down
never to be eaten again

they arrived-

at the children's parties
with the theme of sky-blue

the children who only sang to them

in their peach bright sashes
pale green velvetly
and merrily.

mary angela douglas 30 november 2013