To John Keats, Not Only Written On Water

you are an enamel on the wind;
you with your bright clock ticking;
a tangle of myrhh and extravagance

bewildering the starlight;
dazzling past Time, infused with gold
well beyond wondering.

bitter honour conferred

or not conferred,
the nightingale has flown to you
and will not depart.

mary angela douglas 8 november 2015