what if we dreamed of the glass mountains
the golden apples rolling away
what if we left that Age forever;
would the Princess stay
stay in the middle of the story
where we had left her, on our own.
would she find in the beautiful chaos
something bright she still called home
something maybe like a star
guiding the Magi near to far
something rescuing at hand
far and away with the contraband
I have past purple, visions seen
past royal crown a brighter gleam
I see her wavering in the light
past all the victories, all the plights
with the golden apples ripe somehow
I never ever disavowed.
mary angela douglas 2 november 2020
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