Where There Are No Names

lately in my dreams

I find myself missing something

what could it be, a blue moon rummaged,

a lost charm off a bracelet

a tiny hinged piano

or the colour green pale frosted in April

when the mists rise and I think of the Holy Ghost

the fragrance of mown grass.

is it from the past will God merely smile

when I ask, across the wide and the violet waters

is it a ghost ship sailing

and is anyone aboard

try as I may I cant find the shore

I think oh how can I afford this looking at my watch

is it a swatch of rose coloured fabric

can I match it to old china

how can you find the way out of the mine

where it cant be mined it is or was so once upon

sometimes with an arched loveliness like a swan

it floats on transient,just at dawn upon a lake

oh how oh how can I awake

and other times its  dappled and it wants to be orchards

white orchards as far as the eye can see

and so that you cannot tell is it winter is it Spring

is it petals or snow

I dont know I dont know

it's whatever I dream and no train is bound there

though I search every car is it a star that failed to bloom

the light that fell in my old room

oh I haven't got the claim ticket anymore;

I've searched all pockets and its ever the same

the pause in the music where there are no names.

mary angela douglas 31 october 2020