fading from the fabled world
we wondered fleetingly
where had the colours gone
and calendars we knew
birds in their songs, renewing
every Spring
and the dim waters falling.
now is it all foam and spent
like gold we never owned
and can we no longer trace
in the least frost our
imagined names?
what is fame to this,
the loss of kingdoms;
the jewels out of the setting.
irrevocably.
we mourned upon the harps
even as they vanished.
and the rose lavished gardens,
closed.
mary angela douglas 14 february 2017
we wondered fleetingly
where had the colours gone
and calendars we knew
birds in their songs, renewing
every Spring
and the dim waters falling.
now is it all foam and spent
like gold we never owned
and can we no longer trace
in the least frost our
imagined names?
what is fame to this,
the loss of kingdoms;
the jewels out of the setting.
irrevocably.
we mourned upon the harps
even as they vanished.
and the rose lavished gardens,
closed.
mary angela douglas 14 february 2017
