Hurt, In The Waves Hans Andersen Turned Aside Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

to Hans Christian Andersen for the beautiful story of
'The Little Mermaid'

weeping shells, the mermaid on dry land
longs for the pearl of her underwater
suns, her baby rainbows
wavering in deep waters.
nothing here is deep

and she sleeps sand.
she sleeps sand and cannot breathe
uncertain of a way to believe
the beating of her coral heart to music.
new steps for the ballet, no longer

gliding on a wave, she has to learn
through dancing on crushed shells.
and in her violet eyes, the far-off look
of skies reflected down and down the miles
of taffeta waters, swells

and clouds the view of nothing
till it feels like dying.
later in the story, could she turn to foam?
heartbroken, on the surface of all surfaces;
her soul, dispersed...

but this was a fine love, cried the author
weeping shells and out of stories in the moment;
his hands shaking on dry paper:
unable to unfold her valor and the sorrow more
and still to bear-
the vanishing point on the horizon.

the invisible Glory where she fled.
the moire closing of the waters
above her sea bright head
or how the seas turned, then,
the colours of all roses

mary angela douglas 21 april 2014; rev.8 june 2014