Pity The Beautiful Word That Cannot Chime Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

pity the beautiful word that cannot chime;
underground, in exile from the
naturalist poets who find

more coinage in the simple words,
they say, who barter our heritage away
lightly, while talking at the conferences or

holding forth at
the dinner tables set with wine no longer roseate;
with crystal, whilst the crystalline word 0

shivers and cries,

shimmering under the table;
really, barely even a pet anymore;
still less, Divine

since it has been decided
all around and with snifters held high
yes, Gentlemen! to banish the Divine as well

from these proceedings.

mary angela douglas 18 december 2015