THE RIGHT VERSION

in the early fairy stories she was regarded

as a lovely person, beloved by all

in light dresses and a sky blue shawl,

festooned with roses and maiden's hair ferns

or pictured under the crabapple tree,

her skirts billowing, feeding the small birds

but over centuries

a goblin imperfection

eroded the scenes

no one could say when, in later versions

it crept in

and heralded such surreptitious

whisperings:

she'll get her comeuppance, somehow!

tending the geese that never lay the golden eggs.

and I can't repeat what else was said.

but in my picture book she's stayed the same

under the same pale lemony moon

and nothing ruinous can mar her reign

her countenance of pearl and faint flushed flowers

her cornflower prayers from the Book of Hours;

her sudden departures in the driving rains

turn out magnificently.

you'll see.

all the golden pears shaken down

sweet and delectable, mysteriously,

the luminous angels marveling

whenever the townsfolk plot and seethe,

envision her bleak

and on the point of starving.

mary angela douglas 18 november 2022