Thursday, February 16, 2017

Said The Child Of Silver To The One Of Gold

said the child of silver to the one of gold
how have we landed here
in this fair place

and still they do not know
but this was long ago
when the winds were theirs alone

and every stone on the playground
shone with more than mica gleaming
we were strawberry seaming then

stitching between the rhymes
all, all the time with rose budded china
and the let's pretend

under the berry coloured skies

not sorting the hows and whys at all
not even meaning to, using up all the crayons
at the same time

we only dreamed as if we were

resembling more than slightly
our portraits done in chalk pastels
at the World's Fair.

wide awake the whole time
for perpetual Christmases descending
the stories never ending, you said

in your sleep nevertheless,
we grew away and
I confess still a love for music

fostered then, and lemon meringue pies
and Cinderella read again and again
instead of homework

and the fairytale disguise
all glittter and sequin
birthday beribboned surprise

it's not what they say what you thought was said

growing up would be growing older; more remote
you're even more silver; Im ever more gold
or is it the other way round

depending on who's telling it now or what day it is.
we ask all Alice, wondering still.
in search of the green, the pink chalked hills.

I think, we always will.

mary angela douglas 16 february 2017