In My Cherry Cadenzas (Final Version, Reformatted Stanzas) Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

in my cherry cadenzas
fleece shorn clouds traipse by
at the end of their summery measures:

a gold gummed star to light the way
green foil or violet's blue,
glistening dusky silver

fixed at the top of the score that I have played
by my Grandmother appraising and shyer
than the pedals I barely know when to use
is their illumining.

in my cherry cadenzas, I will chase the moon
pretending I am all in lace with a mantilla-
with one pink rose or May queen in
pale lime chiffon-

why not? (with a peony fan) -
or distant in ivory earrings carved like snow,
or snow's imperceptible command

barely discernible from the silken seconds;
for who can say when melting is at hand.
why can't we stay inside the music,

(I want to ask my Grandmother) the
music box where towers never failed
where the princess lived at home

with the Pinking Shears
we thought were pink and
unassayed by the riddles posed
when the cherry cadenzas fade
mary angela douglas 8 september; rev.19 september 2013rev.20 june 2017; 13 october 2023