maybe it seems to you a small thing.
in my view, nothing is.
I remember our dolls had nail polish
painted on. the Madame Alexander ones.
it did seem a necessary detail fresh out of the Christmas box.
we were glad it was taken care of.
glad for the magnificent doll
dressed and looking like the opera singer Lily Pons who
had velvet embroidery on her cloud light
gown, pale pink velvet roses, light green velvet leaves
on every square of organza with a diamond like tiny
rhinestone at the center of each flower,
each pale square.
a pink satin sash and petticoats beyond compare
a picture hat with roses
teardrop pearl earrings
and auburn hair, like ours.
she was the princess.
though we never called her that.
it is impossible now not to think
she was the veritable Fairy Queen.
yet she had revlon red nails.
something jars when I remember that.
they should have been the palest shell pink, I think.
to match the roses.
yet her demeanor was sweet.too sweet
in realms beyond the professional.
she never could have worked in offices
the dress codes alone...think of it
though I did not know that then.
I mean, if she had fallen on hard times.
despite her typing skills
this we never thought of at that time
when we looked up to her as the paragon doll.
time being so eternal then awash in fairy tales
and unexpected chimes I still miss,
I confess
with all details taken care of
more or less.
mary angela douglas 28 december 2019
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