Mary Angela Douglas Poems

again, to Van Cliburn

we anchor in mist and dream we sail
but in our hearts no winds prevail.
...

to Hans Christian Andersen, of course!

how beautifully you remembered that room;
sailing back from doom it seemed far lovelier
...

to William Allingham (1824-1889)

and to Camino Bakery where I hope to go when I've found all my books
...

shimmering nightingales have landed on my patio
cried the princess, all in silver
though there was none to notice.
...

to Edward Taylor, Anne Bradstreet, John Donne

God hoards us: we are His gold
or could be, if we wished it so
...

to Henry Van Dyke, on my grandparents bookshelf
(by the Christmas tree and the living room picture window)

red and white should always taste this sweet
...

it's just the nebulae sifting through your dreams
because you left the window open.
you left the window open and the moon came in,
...

that day your mother kept for you
like a present tucked away
in starred tissue paper...
...

the Soul near her bright alcove strayed
unseen by anyone
counting the dawns,
interlocking of children's beads
...

to Christ, the Lord.

in memory of Christiane Coste, my friend (d. february 27,1978) to be sung from tower to tower...
...