Old Books Came Back To The Countries Of My Heart Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

old books came back to the
countries of my heart and
rooted there:

to all those scratching the surface
for loose change-
secretly, I said, 'adieu'.

I meant it.

familiar as twilight and like a birthright
the white stones sang
under the thinnest thread of moonlight-

I know that I will find
along this path
of the fairytale's declining year the

glissando shimmer of the
harp-won days-

and turn again, like Dick Whittington,

counting the silvered seconds till
all Beauty Comes to Pass...

it's the bright rose hush of petals
scattered on the grass I
will guard like a misplaced childhood

the mere
mention of God's name I won't profane
pronounced like an outlaw now.

mary angela douglas 11-12, may 2011; 5 october 2023