they had words quince bright,
or quartz humming all the night
rainbow rimmed, rose trellised
close at hand until when
sleight of hand Kingdoms, come!
and us with our silky succession of scarves...
or velvet knighted and seed pearled
one by one down the hidden passages
the ladies in waiting in rag made curls
caroled and caroling beckoned and beckoning:
words whirled worlds toward the Raggedy Ann,
twirled like jewel box ballerinas unmoored,
off the table top above the dresser drawers
till the bears went plop! like furry
raindrops thudding
-hush! somebody's coming-
onto the floor by the pink night light.
my sister and I swore
later to no witnesses but God
staying up at night to see
all the toys gather secretly their jack in the box surprise
as we kept giggling, maybe sing song praying
please let stories have no end let toffees stay unwrapped
rather than that...or appear should we go maying
dark cherry in the cordial rhyme
surrounded by chocolate, chocolate!
or the drugstore giant valentine ruby box
satin ribbon sashed we'd eyed,
let that be for Christmas, next time for Mama.
chock full of diamonds
and we'll cash play money,barter
the Golden Delicious stash.
birthdays coming, what will words be then
all corn bread honey and buttered or jam cut neatly
picnic wise, pink lemonade poured all out of doors or
butter cream frosted to the hilt and slice
with a rose on it every minute
and we'll grow up and play the spinet
in dresses of white lawn all stars to wish upon
or take our bikes in the dead of night
to the toy store book shop malt shop combo
we will own
sampling everything making our fortune fortunate,
growing up to live for music, poetry
for pink and green houses, silver thrones
for playing jacks till three on the summer porch...
if we want to...watching the Twilight Zone
and making well thought out
lists of our three wishes, six combined
for when the good fairy chimed by...
(that's why she never came, my sister opined later)
but now she climbed out of her cot to
practice immediately the toy piano with the
color coded keys, getting ready for Carnegie
that got us into trouble but it was worth it
and we squirreled away more soundlessly then
the french lace in the wedding gown pictures
newspaper snipped on a Sunday, saying
oh orange blossoms,
o what is stephanotis?
till the dawn came up all roseate, roseate
the alarm clock rung
and Grandfather called out "Rise and Shine!"
and it was time for oatmeal
in a lake of cream.
what did you dream our Mama beamed
we said, laughing breathlessly:
stories, the ones we made all up.
till giant rabbits came into our room and gobbled us up
reflecting in the big mirror...
and she believed us, willy nilly.
wouldn't you?
its time for school get your book satchels ready
here's your milk money
Grandmother said in her oriental slippers
matching robe keeping us on the train track.
and if the rain pelted,
saying on our way out:
"You aren't sugar; you won't melt."
mary angela douglas 29 october 2017
or quartz humming all the night
rainbow rimmed, rose trellised
close at hand until when
sleight of hand Kingdoms, come!
and us with our silky succession of scarves...
or velvet knighted and seed pearled
one by one down the hidden passages
the ladies in waiting in rag made curls
caroled and caroling beckoned and beckoning:
words whirled worlds toward the Raggedy Ann,
twirled like jewel box ballerinas unmoored,
off the table top above the dresser drawers
till the bears went plop! like furry
raindrops thudding
-hush! somebody's coming-
onto the floor by the pink night light.
my sister and I swore
later to no witnesses but God
staying up at night to see
all the toys gather secretly their jack in the box surprise
as we kept giggling, maybe sing song praying
please let stories have no end let toffees stay unwrapped
rather than that...or appear should we go maying
dark cherry in the cordial rhyme
surrounded by chocolate, chocolate!
or the drugstore giant valentine ruby box
satin ribbon sashed we'd eyed,
let that be for Christmas, next time for Mama.
chock full of diamonds
and we'll cash play money,barter
the Golden Delicious stash.
birthdays coming, what will words be then
all corn bread honey and buttered or jam cut neatly
picnic wise, pink lemonade poured all out of doors or
butter cream frosted to the hilt and slice
with a rose on it every minute
and we'll grow up and play the spinet
in dresses of white lawn all stars to wish upon
or take our bikes in the dead of night
to the toy store book shop malt shop combo
we will own
sampling everything making our fortune fortunate,
growing up to live for music, poetry
for pink and green houses, silver thrones
for playing jacks till three on the summer porch...
if we want to...watching the Twilight Zone
and making well thought out
lists of our three wishes, six combined
for when the good fairy chimed by...
(that's why she never came, my sister opined later)
but now she climbed out of her cot to
practice immediately the toy piano with the
color coded keys, getting ready for Carnegie
that got us into trouble but it was worth it
and we squirreled away more soundlessly then
the french lace in the wedding gown pictures
newspaper snipped on a Sunday, saying
oh orange blossoms,
o what is stephanotis?
till the dawn came up all roseate, roseate
the alarm clock rung
and Grandfather called out "Rise and Shine!"
and it was time for oatmeal
in a lake of cream.
what did you dream our Mama beamed
we said, laughing breathlessly:
stories, the ones we made all up.
till giant rabbits came into our room and gobbled us up
reflecting in the big mirror...
and she believed us, willy nilly.
wouldn't you?
its time for school get your book satchels ready
here's your milk money
Grandmother said in her oriental slippers
matching robe keeping us on the train track.
and if the rain pelted,
saying on our way out:
"You aren't sugar; you won't melt."
mary angela douglas 29 october 2017
