I'm not in tune with the spirit of the age
however you may construe it
be that as it may Im not dismayed
I love immortal poetry.
Immortal poetry doesnt need much
a mockingbird, a simple thrush
a fleet of clouds
the age old stars
a hymn perhaps from rubied Mars
immortal poetry lives in me
though not on any stellar page
that you will find is all the rage
it hums in me a lemon sun
and shines in me when nightfall comes
the way it did when I was small
with puppet shadows on the wall
and fairy tales that grow more real
with each repeated ancient peal
I am the bell of long ago
faded a little, amber and gold
I do not need the current scene
the yellow brick road or common greed
to sing until I sing no more
is all from God that I implored
to sing so happy in the day
till, thistledown, I blow away.
mary angela douglas 7 july 2021
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