To the Russian poets and all poets;the shimmering, undefeated "cloud of witnesses" who conveyed at great cost in their own way: the connecting idea between Heaven and earth. And most of all, to the poet from the former Soviet Union who, dying, in prison, wrote his final poem in his own blood on the wall: the single word, "Hope". Whole-hearted To the Triune God in memory of Mary Adalyn Douglas.
Copyright 2006-2016, U.S. and International Copyright all rights reserved by Mary Angela Douglas
Saturday, November 29, 2014
They Knock All The Game Pieces Down When They're Not Winning
they knock all the game pieces down when they're not winning
said the little girl no longer in storybook land.
that's what they do.
not even at Christmas will they talk to you,
not even when you bring presents.
I'd tell you what I'd do if you wouldn't use
all secrets for yourself.
steal up to the gingerbread house with
feather light footsteps and snatch the
peppermint bark right off the roof:
wait for a foggy day to do this.
then run like heck another way having been warned in a dream.
that's how to play nicely whenever the gleam of something false attracts you;
whenever you're lost in the woods or the day with only one butterscotch ray, (finely wrapped) in your pinafore pocket.