came prince or princess out of the cold, exile,
snows piled up to the diamond panes
and a faint whispering at the heart's door.
once the straw lay heaped and you wondered
how will I spin spin spin it all into gold
or by dawn you had finished when the secret's told
the commissioned castle, the peas sorted from the ashes
avoiding forty lashes or the high seas.
oh in your sleep the golden apples please
in the crystaled cold of winters keep and immemorial.
once by candle lit or dim
the letters swim in the deep and branch into fleur de lis
into roses roses and the garden closes
and its you inside the enchantment
where the witch cannot get in
or you are small enough to live
inside of a flower bud
to be carried on the back of birds
into infinite singing
and this was what you wished for once
at the beginnings
your fingers clutching the maypole ribbons,
all of them,
and you all trimmed with Primary rainbows
so that the year would not turn from Spring.
mary angela douglas 18 july 2017