Reading The Poem All On Her Own In Her Grandfather's Chair

the cream cannot slosh in the strawberries

when you spoon them out.

the almonds on the trout are cut so fine

the rainbowed scales gleam through.

you take small bites. your dress is new

with a pale sash

a paler sheen.

all this is in a dream that you had yesterday

that you're still in

geographies are useless here.

contexts forbidden. pure meaning's hidden

or trellised like a rich vine

like light itself like the wind that blows

the next page forward

and the page after that is Christmas.

tissue guards in sunrise colours

and over the snows

the first intimations of

the Rose.

mary angela dougas 22 february 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

Alice In A Dream Of What Was Melting, Even Then

in dreams we are never sure of the place:

it could be this or another one.

geography dissolves.

and then reappears.

there is a melting of rooms.

then, do they bloom again?

she asked herself on a sunny afternoon

on the very same river but

under a farther sun.

and the clouds float on
the surface of the bowl
and not in the puddles

and the mind is muddled
and do we drift in dreams, do we?
birthday candles in a pinafore pocket...
(just in case you know, they bring a cake-
and with glazed cherries...)

and though it glints like diamonds
the sun on the river; the heart asleep, awake?

you're still out of view in a thin sleeved dress:

though present at the pink occasion
when they tick you off the roll

and late again, for the bus ride home

mary angela douglas 2 february 2015;3 february 2015