I was weeping stones not pearls
the Princess in retrospect signed;sighed
and the winds came up and puffed their angelic
faces into the maps that marked the territories
where we should not venture
in the ruins of the Beautiful Voice
but stop our ears the charlatans advised
where we should not venture
the voices have been stilled against, against their wills
the marauders have wept into lace handkerchiefs
feigning everything;
the masquerades, an accomplished fate.
I haven't signed on to the Carnival Time
she said casting plastic beads into the creek
oh let the ship with rubies in the hold awake
let God tear the mask off the Word
I am devastated by the waste places
worn out from stone cold enterprise
adrift in the kingdoms of straw:
let the gold show through let the eglantine
let the music of birds softly rhyme;
redeem the trodden lilies
o my retrograde singing
mary angela douglas 10 april 2021
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