I Just Want To Go Home

who got a heart that ticks like a watch
at the Emerald Fair?
a thimbleful of courage.

a mind that sees
through crystal doors.
oh why not skip the route through the

poppy coloured fields
and pick at very last and least
the door that

leads to pure freedom; to
crushed diamonds on the winter air
and to the open plains.

but you demur and I despair
and circle the wagons
that just aren't there when

the dolls won't drink the milk
in the bottle
that never disappears.

oh we'll go on for years
you say, thinking you
are some visionary.

but I hear bells like stars
and the Christmas steeples glint
through the blizzards of

bright lies I've heard before.
I know that Christ

is real and I mean Jesus
not someone else
in his disguise

though you use coloured
chalks to QED it on the Palace
blackboards and cry, otherwise! when

your equations shine in the dark.

and though the drowning sink
below the water lines
it's all just watercolours

in a gallery where
it's always raining and
I just want to go home.

mary angela douglas 7 june 2015