Blue Ribbons Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

going to St. Ives
the cherry tree splendid
nursery rhyme land

opened up before me,
the barley sugar sun.
am I the only one

whistling? mu? sed the cobbler
new to his trade.
and the cobblestones are made

of gold and business will be brisk
with plenty of tallow saved to
work by night or moonlight moonlight

in my pockets.
he went down to St. Ives
and was cherry tree splendid

in the nursery rhymes
and all his steeds caparisoned
and jeweled.

and I am the simple fool believing this,
bereft of huckleberry pies
each time I go to the market or

the Fair
in a patched disguise
and bartering everything

for blue blue ribbons. an honest face
the shawl of snow bright lace...

mary angela douglas 12 january 2016