Atlas Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

I wonder where I put the atlas
I used to have near at hand
With all the streets of Disneyland
Marked out grid by grid
And the castles truly I planned
On living in later
Surely it was pink and green
The map of all those countries
And we looked through our binoculars on Saturdays
Thinking the ships should arrive at any moment
What shall I colour in of what remains
Standing amid my brightly coloured gardens
Trying to remember the flower names
I know there are hidden countries
Even more than I knew it then
That if we could find them
We would be full of so much solace
And so many singing birds
We would have eluded all grown up pain
And stirred to peace again, we would sway
on amber hammocks strung between
The trees with the golden apples.
There in the zenith of home
Where the green waters foam
We would plant our flags
Float our swan boats around the happy park's glad perimeter
And never return.
mary angela douglas 11 may 2024