Riding Backwards On The Doll Train, Heading Home

riding backwards on the doll train, heading home,

I lift my hand for a moment in watery sunlight

waving like the Princesss Margaret did a long

time ago in a fairy tale newsreel.

will anyone notice these departures

from the real

as they like to call it.

it's not likely I laugh

and bribe the engineer

with candy leftover from Easter,

purple and orange.

does it taste like purple and orange

my sister asked dreamily

from the dream time I am 

no longer allowed to visit.

I don't know.

you try some.

and we traded baskets

the grass being the same sparkly green

on either side.

and imagined grand weddings

for the Bride doll

who looked at us mysteriously

forever with lilies in her hands.

mary angela douglas 23 march 2015

ASLAN* OR THE BRIGANDS GO THE OTHER WAY

ASLAN OR THE BRIGANDS GO THE OTHER WAY

[to Jesus the Christ, the Lion of Judah (the overcoming one...)]

the brigands go the other way;

calumny stares stone-statue dead

at the white-frost crossroads

in my head

suddenly everything

turned to song.

white flowers staunched

the senseless wounds

where late and long my soul had bled

and I cannot relate to you

how suddenly the winter fled.

everything suddenly turned to song

the hand upraised struck down

at last

and evil's anvil hatched and passed

flowed by You into

silver stars.

I wept at Your bright armies;

and I could only bow my head

when-

wolfish sorrows stalked away

and shadow-puppet Scorn

knew Dread.

suddenly everything turned to song

like a forever Eastertide

and we were finally by Your side

and couldn't be overthrown-

mary angela douglas 7 february 2010

*After C,S, Lewis, Chronicles of Narnia