Then There Was Shining; Then There Was Music
it is a box of clouds I have opened!
cried Pandora, suddenly grieved who
looked for festive colors, perhaps a something
to wear, threaded with fine gold
a pair of moon bright slippers.
oh, beyond repair, she wept.
and the room grew dim at noon
the bees swarmed all the colours.
oh honeycomb day, return
she prayed; I will be good.
and hope, flew straight:
a fairy thread suspending
the earth like a new pearl
on an old necklace
worn out, as a heart ill-used
and then: turning.
then there was shining.
then there was music
mary angela douglas 6 august 2014
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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