It Won't Be My Fault Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

I'm in the rosarium-solarium,
rose arbor, rose harbour wearing
my new rose dress and

carrying a small bouquet of (you guessed it)
wondering whom to address
on the rose promenade.

or dabbing a rose pomade on my tresses
before the art deco mirror with its golden
cunning border of-

yes, I confess it, and you know the rest.
and I'm frying up petals for breakfast, you
know, the best

and if they don't name me Rose Queen at
the pageant this year,
it certainly won't be my fault...

(on second thought in my new rose dress, I wasn't actually IN the rose harbour)

mary angela douglas 13 december 2015