Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Her Wishes Were All Strawberry, Flecked In Golden Cream
[to my mother]
her wishes were all strawberry, flecked in golden cream
that never soured in summer; such a dream
of raspberry ice in the dead of winter making you
happy to be cold or colder then or
a slice of green lime in sparkling cranberry
that is quenching but you can't guess why
her wishes were a blue sonata in a bluer
town, true as larkspur lilted the lilies, as
pink as mignonette at sunset
sunrise never far from here
is a stillness gathered in a white bouquet
of all white fragrances you can't imagine
simply, said the good fairy,
such a sweetness concentrated.
will you try?
I, too was enchanted by her wishing.
entranced, I only stood there-
moon coloured, shy and wondering-
incapable of granting anything at all...
mary angela douglas 10 december 2013;revised 11 december 2013