will there be bright colours there and clouds
and will it snow on Christmas every time, somehow;
will summer last
there longer than it should
making the schoolchild glad as May
when we were dismissed for endless play
will there be fancy icing on the cakes there on display
rosettes and so much gaity
in the little shop windows
such unexpected holidays
and books I've still not read
and roses and lilies too?
and will my heart still break, , ,
into every rainbow hue
after every rain
and what was lost, return again?
mary angela douglas 28 april 2015; 1 december 2023
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem