A Fairy Tale River Ribboned Through The World

a fairy tale river ribboned through the world

visible to some, shining in odd places, shimmering

to little children.

some floated boats on it, some cast necklaces of flowers,

the rainbow broidered merely smiled (mysteriously).

it grew, the fairy tale river, past all we knew

past trees in their summer bowers

and where an unseen music carried us

through livid hours, through warlike ravages of time

still bordered with eglantine, with airy castles

and with cherried towers;

edged sky to sky in Romany and while

the world decried: "Anamalie!"

etched deep beyond the mire of day-to-day

and told at times beside no fires or where

the fires burned low

and when that failed

and all our harps wept winterly on the trees
 abandoned to strange orchards

on days at home with the door and window locked,

and the little sod crevices

and when it rained

and when authorities complained

still ours to keep

a rose red rose white flame

asleep, awake

we dreamed of.

mary angela douglas 15 march 2015