under the breadth of the starry skies
the milk bright pillages of the moon
I write my heart out and am blithe
in this new forged: my summer's, noon.
after long rains in dazzled woods
the soul fed greenery remains
undaunted as the night draws on
imperial as the Kingdom come
under the rainbow's fragile bend
the ancient wounds will start to mend
the winter find its spring again
the winter find its spring- again.
mary angela douglas 15 august 2021
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