this was in a dream and
after climbing a green hill
in search of picnic grounds
as it happens sometimes in daily life
that you find an unexpected thing
while looking for another.
we saw them drifting endlessly,
the lost ones from Oz
in unchronicled years;
the pink and gold
from secret birthday wishes appearing
and the passengers also
in rose as if posing for
the Impressionists on a summer's day and
peering through pearl opera glasses.
and then there were herds of the azure
escaped from circuses and fairs;
from the soft curved hands of tear streaked children
one instant earlier unaware
that here on earth
beauty slips so easily from us.
but here they came back to us
newly in love with clouds
and every bit as high as we used to swing;
consorting with the
rainbow flavored zephyrs
and a something aeolian
that came ringing from the leaves
the tall and guardian ones
we loved so long ago
when we were home...
mary angela douglas 22 september 2016