Counting To Ten The Blue Dusk Begins Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

Counting to ten the blue dusk begins
We hide in the silver moon
And no one finds us
And the moon isn't telling
Free as the wind in the topmost trees
Free as we wanted to be in childhood
And sometimes were
To nibble in dreams the dish of succulent cherries
To ask to be excused from the table of the King
Who just poured cream all over
A day of rampant strawberries and picnics
Where will we not go that the buttermilk sun
Won't charm us
It's His kingdom
Let us deck ourselves in all the flowers
The lily and the rose remembered
The iris the morning glories
neon trumpets of the joys
That cannot be alloyed.
mary angela douglas 19 june 2024