Off Kilter, Spinning Happily

slightly off balance in my poem
I tilt at rainbows becoming the Top
that spins all colours ice cream edged

and frothed all at the same Time or
nursery-rhymed in the fairy tale,
the wheel itself

humming and humming in the neglected
tower and are all her hours made of flowers
sing the children, meaning the Princess...

this is the sum of it, I try to say

but the words float underwater, away,
you know how it is on the
spindrift days you

are dreaming outloud but still
somehow,
no one can hear you.

mary angela douglas 6 december 2015