For These So Many Graces Lord I Forgot To Tell You About Before (Final Version) Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

these things may I thank You for as well:

the memory of bells glass choired

the crust on the day like bread

warmed by the sun

the books that lead you

into the magic gardens one by one

yet don't wall you in

the crunch of snow new glazed

the lighthouse beam

through uncertain haze

the cooling drink on high summer days

of blended fruit juice welcoming

and dream fragmented sleep

when each dream is

like letting light in through a star flecked

window shade, twice over light we called it

the stray things in a drawer kept that at odd

times I recollect

and costume jewelry scattered tangled

in a child's own galaxy

(when it falls to the floor imparting secret

radiances from the chalice of a jewel box)

you're getting a little wordy smiled the sun,

the tap of reprimanding rain at the door

and the March winds sweeping down a hill

how I adore

in the fairy tales of the evermore

as translated by Hans Andersen.

and staying home

for any reason at all.

and being comforted

when you feel as small as Alice

tearful beside the garden door,

she cannot breach;

the key strategically high up

on the crystal table she cannot reach.

unless you intervene.

mary angela douglas 16 october 2022; 7 august 2023