Sunday, April 23, 2023

AND THEN I THINK OF ONE BRIGHT STAR

I've lost the scripts to all the plays

at times I start to think this way

with no words left but silence stays

and snows throughout the listless days

and then I think of one bright star

of trees in april, nothing marred

a single cloud of purple hue

a modern yet a halcyon view

and I know now as I knew then

when coloured in with let's pretend

some things there are that do not fade

throughout life's long and strange parade

and even in the darkest drear and unrelieved

year on year always a ghost of light remains

and shines on me and mends all pain.

mary angela douglas 23 april 2023

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