Green Horses Neighed For Their Gold Apples Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

to Dylan Thomas

green horses neighed for their gold apples.
pink in a twilight never-ending
it was maypole beribboned; peach rose-budded

or all the canals were violet,
the tiny gears still capable of turning
blown by a sigh, a child's silken

puffball of a dream,
a hidden courtyard's
roses blooming in the snows...

I knew.
green horses in a golden courtyard
remembering it like yesterday
that the Princess only laughed

and all the fountains with her.
still intact, my artifact breathed God again

upon the music-box of the world

mary angela douglas 16 september 2013