perhaps you were painted for the Queen of Summer
in the dead of winter
so she wouldn't feel nostalgic
for the bright teas under the shade trees,
the little cakes.
for she had far to go
in a cherry frock with lace of snow
a petticoat, little shoe of pale blue satin.
oh could you break in two
would you be her heart
in pieces of french majolica?
on the shores of a kingdom
partial to strawberry vines.
let it be written in dust
on the neglected pianos
by those in slightly modern times
that she sang like a thousand larks
or like the summer rains
and cherished strawberries overmuch,
overipened, with cream or without
and served on French Majolica.
mary angela douglas 4 october 2016
in the dead of winter
so she wouldn't feel nostalgic
for the bright teas under the shade trees,
the little cakes.
for she had far to go
in a cherry frock with lace of snow
a petticoat, little shoe of pale blue satin.
oh could you break in two
would you be her heart
in pieces of french majolica?
on the shores of a kingdom
partial to strawberry vines.
let it be written in dust
on the neglected pianos
by those in slightly modern times
that she sang like a thousand larks
or like the summer rains
and cherished strawberries overmuch,
overipened, with cream or without
and served on French Majolica.
mary angela douglas 4 october 2016