the phoenix scratching in the dust may be deciphered yet
veering off from homework to stories of E. Nesbit or
from facts and figures we forget so merrily rowed
when we write in Tyrian purple on the Phoenician clouds
and the gold mines are reopened,Solomon knows
we write in boik reports
the miners vindicated for their fools gold dreams
coming back on the scene and Sutter's Mill.
the movie version of events. we love to watch
while eating all the thin mints Girl Scout bought
because we couldn't sell them all ourselves.
there you shall paint in noveau green acrylics
the blessed world again
the banished once upons.
I with my long lost crayon
you in your lost tiara harried on
no more; no more from the stage door. may we
maytime restore the playhouse to the semblance
of what it never was before...Resphigi,
the ancient pines remembered
and the ones outside in our yard
soft, in their summer appellations
our fondest constellations
Segovia, strumming the red rose days
on our record player while we affect
Spain and the flamenco, Holy Days.
holy is that music, all we had to say:
say, Simon Say we're all for Fizzies
in black cherry
Time, the landable Moon is on its way
at our profitless Stand
sipped slowly
mary angela douglas 10 november 2018;rev. 27 january 2019
veering off from homework to stories of E. Nesbit or
from facts and figures we forget so merrily rowed
when we write in Tyrian purple on the Phoenician clouds
and the gold mines are reopened,Solomon knows
we write in boik reports
the miners vindicated for their fools gold dreams
coming back on the scene and Sutter's Mill.
the movie version of events. we love to watch
while eating all the thin mints Girl Scout bought
because we couldn't sell them all ourselves.
there you shall paint in noveau green acrylics
the blessed world again
the banished once upons.
I with my long lost crayon
you in your lost tiara harried on
no more; no more from the stage door. may we
maytime restore the playhouse to the semblance
of what it never was before...Resphigi,
the ancient pines remembered
and the ones outside in our yard
soft, in their summer appellations
our fondest constellations
Segovia, strumming the red rose days
on our record player while we affect
Spain and the flamenco, Holy Days.
holy is that music, all we had to say:
say, Simon Say we're all for Fizzies
in black cherry
Time, the landable Moon is on its way
at our profitless Stand
sipped slowly
mary angela douglas 10 november 2018;rev. 27 january 2019
