Mary Angela Douglas Poems

my cherry coloured clouds my drifted snows
so merrily she summed up all her sums
while we traced leaves on coloured paper
...

'must the water rhyme with the sun, ' I wandered by
the streams that run humming to myself, 'at the
end of every line? ' because a friend had scorned
...

everything she held in her hands turned to snows;
the starlight above diminishing where she had departed
no longer sacrosanct in the little villages of the world.
...

the broken altar where she was crowned
cannot bide the mists
or little else that she had found in life
...

to Rod Serling
to the Russian people, forever the guardians of Poetry

to all the Americas in my heart
...

to a dry fountain

small birds came to drink
when holes were punched in a daylight sky
...

to my grandparents

in bubble-gum pink, reading old comics
we sipped our summers slowly while
...

to J.M. Barrie

strange world we are always leaving
all the time every night we leave in
...

for Oliver Sacks

...suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
...

lost saints wandered through forests of miracle
treading the light but never crushing it;
famished, making the music shine:
alone.
...