pink air coned, and sugar throned, called fairy floss
or candy floss or candied air or everywhere at the Fair
or Princess dream or sugar seemed, or hurricane of rose
you can't save even if it froze, why isn't it an ice cream?
that could be supreme. a childhood love the colour
of (on earth) or the most
exquisite dessert above sing the Heavenly Host dreamily;
say the little kids on Sundays
please, please
can I have some, circus bound
or not? or funnel cakes, hot, melting
with cinnamon-sugar, sure to disappear
all summer long into the cidered Fall
of candy, caramel, apples dipped and dipped
but that's a treat for some other day
when pink spun blue spun happiness comes
to (almost!) stay...
mary angela douglas 10 january 2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem