don't be afraid walking on waters
a small voice chimed
perhaps from a charming cloud
as painted by Blake
seen walking on the Thames
and singing brilliant hymns
when the not so sanguine tygers
burned in the night.
is it indelible I said?
hoping it was so.
all those illuminations,
long ago.
and the angels blurred in trees
in watercolours, please.
oh all of these and the sick rose healed
and all that we can feel
when dreaming of his pastorales
and the New Jerusalem.
mary angela douglas 21 june 2019
No comments:
Post a Comment