these april trees: the pink and the peach of them,
the ivory shade
the plum edging into shadow, heaven made,
their fragility.
who is God I wonder to make anything this way
and the veil of them, falling like snows, and yet it's Spring
the children sing, dancing around them in the storybooks.
who of you, you or I ,could dare to make something this exquisite,
evanescent so that the heart longs to be April always
while trembling for its demise, these kingdoms
of such utter delicacy you would walk on clouds you vow,
if only you could!
not to disturb their loveliness, somehow;
the momentary flare of their petals
scattering everywhere
in the least of the pearl breezes...
mary angela douglas 5 october 2017
the ivory shade
the plum edging into shadow, heaven made,
their fragility.
who is God I wonder to make anything this way
and the veil of them, falling like snows, and yet it's Spring
the children sing, dancing around them in the storybooks.
who of you, you or I ,could dare to make something this exquisite,
evanescent so that the heart longs to be April always
while trembling for its demise, these kingdoms
of such utter delicacy you would walk on clouds you vow,
if only you could!
not to disturb their loveliness, somehow;
the momentary flare of their petals
scattering everywhere
in the least of the pearl breezes...
mary angela douglas 5 october 2017
