This Is What Happens

sometimes I imagine in Heaven
a grand welcoming
the Party to beat all parties

festooned with pink,
all the pastels swirling
infinite amounts of cake and drink

with ice cream
and there at the Gate
a glorious glittery confetti

waterfalling down
little silver trumpets
and lemon placecards

with curlicue writing
accenting the raspberry just desserts
the Christmas ponies led in

with the sun blinding bridles

and a crowning, a crown
and it's not the paste

diamond tiara this time
or the cereal variety
cardboardy jeweled

and cut-out on the dotted lines 
it's the real thing
and a mighty shout goes up

all amethyst coloured
and then there is a stream
as far as eye can see or peridot mind

conceive
from all the birthstone dimensions,

directions, indirections, peri-nations
islands and isthmuses alike
severally and all at once

once upon

of jolly friends
coming from everywhere
from beyond the potted plants

in their pools of gold
from distant hills the
bluest of blues and bells

pealing and pealing
no longer holding back
and no flack

and heavenly hosts from every rill
in a jeweled light spilling over
budding out with the bouquets

for someone you've never seen
and don't have even a vague memory of
and the grey silver doves in

graceful circles braiding ribbons
of satin to underscore the Pearled point emphatically

who is all this for
some may ask idly
if they've gotten

this far in the story
and I say from the dream of Glory

this is what happens when anyone enters Heaven
who no one had time for on earth...

mary angela douglas 5 march 2016