was it the silver and the shining
a cleaness as of rainwashed air
and we were staring at the angels
hidden in clouds never dreaming outloud
outloud outloud...
now all is volume turned up loud louder and
loudest
circus crowd magnified but then
it was sweetness, light as silk shod, the
apple blossom falling on the lawns imperceptible
as time and amenable as snows on holiday
then it was the december rose
watched over by caroling caroling
the shimmer of bells awakening and the glass held
ones most pure crystalline the gold
leaf flaking off the sun and we
catching it every mote like the Perseid
all golden coined we were then pristine
least note carved on the early piano
accentuated
full of the lavish stories the ones
where the pictures held the colours breaking
the rainbow bubble of words
above our lullay lullay the lilacs on the
palings of the storybook house scattering
in the cherry sprigged time then we were
sliding down the slides in pinafores
and dresses of a strange design ornate
as kaleidoscope shifting
we were matching our pocketbooks to
the vivid patent leather shine
with the least ruffle happy
and the apricot sash tied.
and prayers and prayers with
the angels in the air for the blue skied
and those who did not lie who merely loved.
and now you will tell me I or mine
must shut the book of riddles
and declaim upon the wonders of
the political. this I will never do
remembering the lyres breaking
out into blossom on the least picnic pretext
under a new made sun
and the tunafish sandwich
eaten at home as if at a royal feast
down to each last crumb
and the ice cream lingering, never
melting that fast our strawberry chocolate vanilla
forevers come to pass
and painting it all over and over again
the sherbets the vermillions
the sun in a vaircoloured sky
with the watercolor box open to view
and all the possibilities
that we knew
the pinks and greens of the watermelon time
the orange rind the cupboard of the
damson plum and rhyme
we will not barter now or anytime;
we did not then
mary angela douglas 1 march 2017
a cleaness as of rainwashed air
and we were staring at the angels
hidden in clouds never dreaming outloud
outloud outloud...
now all is volume turned up loud louder and
loudest
circus crowd magnified but then
it was sweetness, light as silk shod, the
apple blossom falling on the lawns imperceptible
as time and amenable as snows on holiday
then it was the december rose
watched over by caroling caroling
the shimmer of bells awakening and the glass held
ones most pure crystalline the gold
leaf flaking off the sun and we
catching it every mote like the Perseid
all golden coined we were then pristine
least note carved on the early piano
accentuated
full of the lavish stories the ones
where the pictures held the colours breaking
the rainbow bubble of words
above our lullay lullay the lilacs on the
palings of the storybook house scattering
in the cherry sprigged time then we were
sliding down the slides in pinafores
and dresses of a strange design ornate
as kaleidoscope shifting
we were matching our pocketbooks to
the vivid patent leather shine
with the least ruffle happy
and the apricot sash tied.
and prayers and prayers with
the angels in the air for the blue skied
and those who did not lie who merely loved.
and now you will tell me I or mine
must shut the book of riddles
and declaim upon the wonders of
the political. this I will never do
remembering the lyres breaking
out into blossom on the least picnic pretext
under a new made sun
and the tunafish sandwich
eaten at home as if at a royal feast
down to each last crumb
and the ice cream lingering, never
melting that fast our strawberry chocolate vanilla
forevers come to pass
and painting it all over and over again
the sherbets the vermillions
the sun in a vaircoloured sky
with the watercolor box open to view
and all the possibilities
that we knew
the pinks and greens of the watermelon time
the orange rind the cupboard of the
damson plum and rhyme
we will not barter now or anytime;
we did not then
mary angela douglas 1 march 2017
