IF WE LEAVE THE WORLD TO THEM

 

IF WE LEAVE THE WORLD TO THEM

If we leave the world to them, the inventory takers

The movers and the shakers

They will run the fairies aground

Amethyst kites will no longer sail

The semi precious sunsets will pale

We will start to tell fantastical tales

Piling our cocoa high with the little pink marshmallows

We got on sale

And be cut short in less than midsentence.

Shall we lose our way, then, to the wild strawberries

Our shadows thin as paper dolls, dispirited

Shall we forget all we’ve inherited

And in the rain have only serviceable umbrellas?

Ah my golden parasols oh my fuchsia fans

In chivalrous midsummer, living without plans;

For apricot cobblers and gemmy pirate plunders

Oh my lovely storms minus their lightnings and blue thunders

How will I how will I live without wonder

How will we live with the quibblers, the dolorous

We who imagine that life is glorious and rejoice

For the sugared milk coloured like Rouault

On vintage cartoon Saturdays when we

Make our own parades and slurp our cereals

All afternoon in fanciful pjs

or under a shell pink moon

Reenacting the Christmas plays

Even in red clovered June

We dream it should be, we should always be

Exactly, precisely this way

With the angel harps tuned.

What will we do with their stock and trade

Sipping so sadly their watered down orangeades

Seeking for Andrew Marvell, for o, in a green shade

We who surely

For miracles were made.

And fragrant gardenias.

mary angela douglas 10 august 2024