it's certain I am He counted every needle and pin,
every dropped stitch as a real attempt.
as for me, I wanted to live by
the rick rack stream
near the mill wheel turning
and all the millers, free.
why shouldn't it be
I'd ask Him dearly, this
being my very own prayer and
clearly wanting it to be so
that the spokes in the tangerines
would carry us to all the balls
and the honeysuckled air would breathe
and flow around the fairy tale's obstacles
as in the paintings of Van Gogh
with the marshmallow clouds all billowing
and we would stand small, firm and
arm in fairy like arm with all our
bracelet charms
before our Grandfather's rose garden
as it it were the entire world.
mary angela douglas 20 july 2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem