The Blakean Mode Poem by Mary Angela Douglas
The Blakean Mode
every word I try to form,
imprint on the crystal air
seems to fall a step behind
in a chord born otherwhere
though I, snowbanked, sigh and strive
once again the note to pluck
still, in silver it abides
far from all this mire and muck.
still I play invisible music
still I paint invisible songs
knowing that the Lord will lead them
to the green place they belong.
mary angela douglas 12 november 2023
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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8/28/2026 1:24:52 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
