Thursday, May 18, 2017

The Dress I Could Not Buy

the faintest swirl of pastels in a mist
or roses, roses garden kissed
tea roses, pale green shadowed

on a garden wall
or blue and sapphire shirred
as birdcalls trellised in the dawns

or tied with a velvet sash
sheer as all the snows there ever were
pale skirts impearled with crystalline crystals

no violets missing from the corsage
and every pink in place
or something slight with lace

embroidered over time
the dress the soul should wear
as evening chimes when the day is spent

with Time itself used up in lilies

with the fragrance from old gardens on the air
and starshine anywhere you look
a dress from a book I read

where everything is said as it should be
and echoes in the memory
becoming becoming as the soul should

shod in gold going toward God
ever more radiant
immune to distress

the perfect dress

mary angela douglas 18 may 2017