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
Sunday, November 09, 2014
Who Loved Beauty Most Perhaps
who loved Beauty most perhaps was the one we didn't see
filing past us on the street, that moment in the cafe
or on the bus.
who loved Beauty most was perhaps silent about it
from too much love. reticent. nothing to write home about.
who loved Beauty most did not excel in school
and later on made do with the crumbs from the
Christmas feasts of the world. watched a little tv
or the crimson leaves falling in the park.
the fireflies after dark, first buds on the trees
the snowflake clouds perceived.
was often at home. unvisited.
slicing the liverwurst thin in the
mustard coloured kitchinette.
perhaps with not even a dog or cat.
who loved Beauty most stayed home from the Ball
while the stepsisters came back loaded with the souvenirs
the wish you were here postcards sent a little late.