where is the place I try to find
but if it exists, is hiding in a
neverending game of
hide and seek
though I weep and through my tears
find it under the pillow, in my sleep.
laughing, I would be there
dappled and dreams queing up
for a long, long while
and gifts of song like apples
windfall falling in the orchards.
how green and red and gold
as if on perpetual holiday
springs would be then,
aprils unemcumbered by
the inevitable moment of
blossoms all blowing away,
the bride trees stricken.
and I would gather violets then-
sweet peas, posies from the
old fashioned gardens glowing anew.
ah, there is no ticket there, no pass
through the rose reft thickets
though I look in the glass
of a thousand summers
wishing it were not true.
mary angela douglas 29 december 2016
but if it exists, is hiding in a
neverending game of
hide and seek
though I weep and through my tears
find it under the pillow, in my sleep.
laughing, I would be there
dappled and dreams queing up
for a long, long while
and gifts of song like apples
windfall falling in the orchards.
how green and red and gold
as if on perpetual holiday
springs would be then,
aprils unemcumbered by
the inevitable moment of
blossoms all blowing away,
the bride trees stricken.
and I would gather violets then-
sweet peas, posies from the
old fashioned gardens glowing anew.
ah, there is no ticket there, no pass
through the rose reft thickets
though I look in the glass
of a thousand summers
wishing it were not true.
mary angela douglas 29 december 2016
