A Beautiful Narrative Stalls

a beautiful narrative stalls,
is led to a stable of gold...
or it is a sugar loaf

for children at a rustic table
who break off pieces
to dip in blue bowls of

milk.
this reminds them of clouds like silk
contained in a blue sky

and the sugar loaf is bright,
sparkling like snow outside
or it is buttered gold as sunrise

the world without lies
dew beading on the leaves.
or all of these at the same time

in needlepoint.

it is a rose trellised hour.
the children are their Mama's best roses,
the heirlooms; this is how she thinks.

but the teller of tales must choose
which ruse to pursue

though the children want everything for Christmas
they were made for that

to go down every last jeweled road
singing their scraps of song
to swing on the swings in moonlight

too long
so that they grew cold
with no fortune told but the Star 

so far

from Auntie Em in a crystal globe
pleading oh please return
return from a poppy bright sleep;

it should be Spring.
but the trees break out into weeping
instead of flowers...

mary angela douglas 30 april 2019