Cobbling The Moon Into The Skies

cobbling the moon into the skies

the storied tell you not to cry

and you believed them.

golden vanilla is the sigh

that floats into a winter dream.

one roller skate on and one is lost

somewhere in the living room

but you didn't skate anyway you only longed to-

to say in out loud cherry dreaming:

snow.  and canned pears icy in

a pale green bowl. and sleigh bells

sleigh bells creche in the window

sill glow I trace in the mist

with my mittened fingers until until-

old spelling lists appear before Christmas:

mimeograph and graph and

pink and green mapped

ancient scrolls

have I misplaced you?

mispronounced your names?

oh fancy coloured diamonds

of the orange in cloves

the drug stores bows, the last minute wrapping

of the last of the chocolate cherries, jewel

box set in Mother of pearl

dear Christ  may all your kingdom comes

remember what I fail to please because you can

cobble the dream into a child to last

born into the wildness of this world

and it will be spangled Christmas

anytime we breathe Your name and

multi-bulbed as Hollands in the Trees

and shining shining icicle tossed and turned

pedaling the winters into Spring

up the long hill,

out of the back yard, now

where Snow began,

the overarching stars

mary angela douglas 7 november 2014