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