The Poem I Love Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

the poem I love chimes out of Time

impossible to be mistaken for something else

small brushstroke before the venerable mountain

longing to go back to Oz;

or it is cerulean blue in the sheepfold sky

the child on the violet hill espies;

Giotto's last sigh.

my rose tinted everything

of which I shall not be made

to feel ashamed by any Court on earth.

the conjugation of starriness, illusion fortified

I shall love till I die.

a bright thimble in the Grandmother's basket

or life on Mars with a thunderstruck: why,

it is the cloud's intention to snow

before anyone knows!

prescient music personified.

it is piecework done

a little unfinished but

with a marvelous unravel of gold.

it is being stranded without a ticket

and still, going Home.

mary angela douglas 21 january 2022