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

Jellybean Poems In A Jar Of Summer Glistened

jellybean poems in a jar of summer glistened.

we scoop them by handfuls and never one by one

splurging on flavors under a strawberry sun

with whipped cream clouds

I added pinkly waiting for summer paperbacks

to come: ordered six weeks ago.

they're here! brown paper wrapped but not for long.

the dog barks by the embroidered divan intuiting fun:

a candyland of summer reading; screen doors shielding, sodas

creaming, deeper lemon shadows on the kitchen walls are dreaming:

banana splits with Hershey's syrup surfeited; fireworks on the lawn;

linen dresses on Sundays, or seersucker striped in pastel hues;

piano pieces in the cool cool house of the cut gardenias...

barefoot dancing down the hall.

when we were small.

mary angela douglas 3 march 2015,14 april 2015

The Made-Up Story About The Candy Box

her paper folded ships in fiesta colours dropped off the 
candy box map
and now who will tell her where to find

the chocolates with the raspberry centers?

she's terrible at guessing when they pass
the candy box round and shuts her eyes before
choosing as if that could cast a spell

and turn them all to raspberry.

we fear the buttercream equator's melting
the sweet meridians turning to taffy
don't eat them all before supper said

the Grandmother in the dream and smiled
and we walked on down the candy lanes awhile
this was one of the better dreams we all agreed

and not at all like real life when you forgot you
put your candy bar in a sundress pocket when
you went out to play and it melted and then

you were scolded and ate plain bread and butter
with sugar sprinkled on it since under no circumstances
in our home was there ever no dessert.

mary angela douglas 12 february 2015

The Clouds Fall Down They Call It Snow

did she spill rose light on the floor she thought perhaps
or pull the curtains and then it was night and if you
pull them again will it be day

the clouds fall down
they call it snow
music comes out of my Grandmother's grand piano

whenever she sails the ivory keys she dispenses
the chocolate squares wrapped in silver foil
the dog wants in when it rains and joins in

all our games did
we spill happiness on the rugs, on the pale sofa with
the bright pillows?

i drew the curtains back and it was summer
glorious summer said Hans Andersen
giving the flowers their names

and I thought, cornflower blue
are the mermaid's eyes she must be crying
how are rainbows made through prisms

what are willows? what is on tv
Walt Disney lives in his own kingdom.
so do we

mary angela douglas 8 february 2015

Small Landscape Done In Crayon

splitting the difference between the blue-green, green-blue crayons

we were paid in lemon drops, strawberry skies.

the pale pink dress for the recital.

living at the edge of vacant lot sunsets

on the corner of the stories told.

and dewdrops on the front lawn

are diamonds we said;

let us gather them fast.

but it was too late.

and now we are colouring the evening sky in salmon.

and the shadows of roses

in gold.

mary angela douglas  6 february 2015