doll poems made of finery,
tiny stitches,lined my sleep;
rippled the vintage wallpaper
or slipped in the creek-
or bubbled in the lemonades
we made. doll poems:
snip of cherry silk,
basted with lime thread;
blue taffeta curtained;
softly sung to bed.
I will keep them in the attics beyond
trap door entrances
pulled with a pearly chain
for days and days when it rains.
and rainbow riven, they'll
come back to you.
you, consistently in love
with the Kingdom of small
where we scattered pillow feathers
to simulate Christmas snow.
and walk about pink halls
in our miniature shawls;
mysterious, with our painted teacups
tamed, on tawny kitchen shelves-
we'll whisper what we know...
and own the wishing wells.
mary angela douglas 24 september 2016
tiny stitches,lined my sleep;
rippled the vintage wallpaper
or slipped in the creek-
or bubbled in the lemonades
we made. doll poems:
snip of cherry silk,
basted with lime thread;
blue taffeta curtained;
softly sung to bed.
I will keep them in the attics beyond
trap door entrances
pulled with a pearly chain
for days and days when it rains.
and rainbow riven, they'll
come back to you.
you, consistently in love
with the Kingdom of small
where we scattered pillow feathers
to simulate Christmas snow.
and walk about pink halls
in our miniature shawls;
mysterious, with our painted teacups
tamed, on tawny kitchen shelves-
we'll whisper what we know...
and own the wishing wells.
mary angela douglas 24 september 2016
