Mary Angela Douglas


Mary Angela Douglas Poems

281. The Wind Has Caught The Tattered Rainbow Sail 8/29/2014
282. Perfect Christmas Stocking 8/29/2014
283. This High Circus Life Has 8/29/2014
284. For The Moment, A Sanskrit Illumination 8/29/2014
285. Rose Pink Flamingo Flurries Over Africa 8/29/2014
286. House Wanted: In A Dream 8/29/2014
287. In Every Cell There Is A White Dove 8/29/2014
288. Blue Starred In The Blue Grass Spring Lullay 8/30/2014
289. In A Sugared Quiet Lit By Multicoloured Stars 8/30/2014
290. The Brocades Spilling Out From Your Bazaars O Lord 8/30/2014
291. Washed Farther Downstream 8/30/2014
292. I Saw The Fleeting Clouds Above The Plains 8/30/2014
293. Peach Swung In The Vernacular, Day After Maya Died 8/30/2014
294. Will This Be On The Test, Asked Gretel 8/30/2014
295. Sitting Down On The Tracks While The Trains Stay Right On Time 8/30/2014
296. It's All Lemon Chiffon 8/30/2014
297. Dream Of The Sequined School Assembly With Pale Pink Programmes 8/30/2014
298. The Ice Cream Panes Of August Melt 8/30/2014
299. And Diamond Light Filled The Kingdom 8/30/2014
300. The Green The Leaf Reverts To When Earth Forgets April 8/30/2014
301. I Was Wearing A Dress Of Impeachable Hue 8/30/2014
302. Blue Words Were Spoken From A Golden Book 8/30/2014
303. Etched In The Stone The Weeping Fern Survived 8/30/2014
304. The Muse In Flight Before The Approaching Armies 8/30/2014
305. Red Velveteen Wouldn't The Rosebuds Wish To Be 8/30/2014
306. I'm Not The Folktune Said The Princess 8/30/2014
307. Spelling The Things That Drift Away 8/30/2014
308. Breaking 8/30/2014
309. I Have Wandered In White Kingdoms 8/30/2014
310. I Will Traverse This Winter Distance 8/30/2014
311. Every Sentence Is A Train Of Pearl 8/30/2014
312. I Kept Your Carnelian Word 8/30/2014
313. Summer Camp In Zinnia Yellow Or Orange With A Splash Of Fuschia Just Like In Our Backyard 8/30/2014
314. The Many Coloured Bear At Rest In A Variegated Light 8/30/2014
315. The Folks Back East Got Your Letter 8/30/2014
316. Voice Prints Of The Angels On The Crystal Air 8/30/2014
317. Pure Tangerine Is The Colour I Would Speak 8/30/2014
318. The Phrase Where God Is Glad To Appear 8/30/2014
319. Like Exupery's Rose 8/30/2014
320. Still Imbued With The Living Rose 8/30/2014

Comments about Mary Angela Douglas

  • Prabhata Kumar Sahoo Prabhata Kumar Sahoo (5/8/2017 11:54:00 PM)

    I love your poet'page.I am tempted to read more about your works after going thru a few.

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Is It Poetry James Mclain Is It Poetry James Mclain (11/15/2016 10:55:00 AM)

    Few have the honesty
    As do you
    To have like you the truth
    As you speak in your
    Biography .. James

  • Mary Angela Douglas Mary Angela Douglas (7/2/2016 4:10:00 PM)

    Thank you for your kind comment Odiete. I believe that poetry and being a poet is from God. If there is any vastness in my poems it comes from my being happy to think about the vastness of God. We are all vast in Him I like to think too. My versatility comes from having a scattered, butterfly like brain that likes to flit from flower to flower in terms of topics to think about (why I always had trouble with writing research papers in school at the last minute; not from procrastination, just from liking too much to research and keep finding things out without drawing conclusions. Heaven will be at least in part, for me, I think, the joy of NEVER AGAIN HAVING TO DRAW CONCLUS9ONS! God bless you a abundantly in your continuing (and already eternal) life as a poet. Thank You. Mary Angela Douglas

  • Ovi-enita Odiete Ovi-enita Odiete (7/2/2016 3:44:00 PM)

    You are such a Vast, Versatile and talented Poetess.....

Best Poem of Mary Angela Douglas

The Names Of Things

to Ray Bradbury, looking back, or forward

the names of things we held in our heart
when alphabets foundered and worlds came apart
and the clouds drifted over mindless borders

and were crucified.
the names of things, the orange and the lemon
the midnight zither and the bluebird plans

the tissue paper birthdays at a secret command
all disappeared, their ribbons curling.
all but the names we taught our children to revere and

year past year,
never to split the silver from the rains,
to refrain from negating the Soul.

and ever to stow the...

Read the full of The Names Of Things

Selling Garcia-Lorca

.'...a las cinco de la tarde' -Federico Garcia-Lorca

selling garcia-lorca
I walked to the edge of
the olive groved sea

and wept into it
the citrus stars shone
down on the last moon

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