Blue Gardens

lost in blue gardens
on the edge of time
we gathered late hyacinths

happy in the waning of the light
with supper time near,
the house within in creamy lamp light drenched:

a subject for numerous paintings
over various, the suburban years
the lemon glow of windows seen

against the faded blue outside,through screens,
the yards of lavender, besides;
turning to that house I want to go

in my light slippers woven of what seems-
gathering again the blue flowers, the shading dreams
the dusk of once upons,

with all that we knew then of life
by thimble fulls, faintly,
of music back then, literature of the piano

the pine tossed winds
with the picture window we thought would always
be ours:

close, onto the vaster, water coloured blue
beyond the swing set mystical in evening dews
where the moon was an opal fete

that we cannot forget: through clouds
the feeling in music then, unexplainable
mounting sapphire winged, unattainable

as Chopin's fourth ballade
melting into the blueness
of everything

I dreamed we could get there by dawn
brushing aside the implausible,
just crossing a lawn

toward the gardenias.

mary angela douglas 4 january 2019