Prang Sunrise And Castle

in the kingdom with its watercoloured Prang
sunrise and castle
you still live on tiptoe

as in the sugarplum days
so good at finding diamonds in the clay
at Murfreesboro;

what else can you?

not too famous, just enough,
a Goldilocks fame as yet
in your cherry velvet,

cherry appliqued collar.

we'll race to the Living Room Tree
oh, our multicoloured!
to pray that this never vanishes

to the One who holds all sparkling
in snowy hands...

the distant lands in picture books
with the clouded towers we share-
bell towers that almost ring

for you with the gum machine
semi semi precious rings
on your every finger

and not a bit gaudy;
where you are citizen not merely but
Princess beyond reproach at the Piggly Wiggly

the first to reach the moon from the swing set
near the air conditioning water tower.

on a most unusual Saturday
we pray to Our Lady of the Orange Nasturtiums
when with all dolls looking on we'll

lemon pledge, sweep, and bake to a crisp
the Gold into existence; singing the birds
into their own trees as we harmonize.

this, I commemorate here and there.

for the soft air through my window
would be cherry branching, always,
strawberry chimed

in the pale blue room with the muslin curtains...

are we the golden twigs broken off
at the last moment
in a dream

of the Golden Tree?
we'd be in cotillion dresses by then.

maybe she asked me in a dream
within a dream within a dream
so many things,

both of us in our carcoats in
a Little Rock snow entranced
with the brand new glazing on the holly berries.

only I couldn't hear her then,
my sister,
as her Music swept away

that could have crowned the Flood-
with rainbows

mary angela douglas 1 november 2015