for Martin Burke
who can gather pure thought into a fine brocade
that will not fall apart
nor fade
may be commanded in the fairy tale
to stitch the roses back
after the hurricanes.
such a person, could they even exist
I thought to myself
when the winds at my wrist
became the corsage of small carnations
thus, I am in league with Lorca
and his green winds
and cannot stand the business of the world
that tramples on.
dead are the roses of the bygone age
the way that people felt then
in the old novels.
it couldn't have all been
mere pretense.
the princess in tulle
lingering near the clear fountains.
oh weave it back
I said to the weavers
like a friend said once
and then did.
so that the lights in the castle
will flare up again
and we will reinvent
the non bureaucratic scenes
and watch wide mystery
cut a swathe through the stars
as happened in the once upons
when we were all young
in Eden.
not knowing the word for tears.
in the fragrant years,
before the Fall.
mary angela douglas 18 april 2018
who can gather pure thought into a fine brocade
that will not fall apart
nor fade
may be commanded in the fairy tale
to stitch the roses back
after the hurricanes.
such a person, could they even exist
I thought to myself
when the winds at my wrist
became the corsage of small carnations
thus, I am in league with Lorca
and his green winds
and cannot stand the business of the world
that tramples on.
dead are the roses of the bygone age
the way that people felt then
in the old novels.
it couldn't have all been
mere pretense.
the princess in tulle
lingering near the clear fountains.
oh weave it back
I said to the weavers
like a friend said once
and then did.
so that the lights in the castle
will flare up again
and we will reinvent
the non bureaucratic scenes
and watch wide mystery
cut a swathe through the stars
as happened in the once upons
when we were all young
in Eden.
not knowing the word for tears.
in the fragrant years,
before the Fall.
mary angela douglas 18 april 2018
