Monday, October 13, 2014

Beautiful Trails Going Nowhere In The Poems

beautiful trails going nowhere in the poems,
I loved: on either side clouds can drift or
leaves oh why not spiraling words like the birds of dusk

circling endlessly back to window trees?

and is it supper yet you wonder, they wonder
you're still a child they itch to say when you're

entranced before

gardenias in the glass green day
so queen of the may and destined to be-

getting lost on the beautiful trails

and reprimanded by strangers who
know your mind better than you do

oh they think they do: in winter whites not quite

ferreting out as if, they should-
your opal galaxies, your cherished delays on the dazzling

trains of gold; the fold on fold of the rose scented

why don't you get to the point they hint
all patience spent near your

beautiful trails the cul de sacs

of seeming the deep sea quays of
dreaming that brought you all

this way the sounding mists

the foam that flies before the fist
the turquoise trysts with God

even while you're at the little table 

of the carefully coloured rainbow sighs
at the ebbing of all lies

beyond mere scenery


mary angela douglas 13 october 2014

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