ah the storybook for which you were looking
had lilacs spilling over the palings;
all in a paler moonlight.
few scurvy knaves.
roses in all the pinks
of the princesses gowns
and fewer frowns.
you turned the pages
and with them, the breezes of Spring,
daydreams invisible to the Onlookers...
sweet holograms of cherry balloons,
the late made Soon.
the diamond window panes of
the reds and greens
of Christmas early.
infinitely laden you were
with little homework.tiny worries.
with the school yard flurries
hinting, Home.
the newest constellations
with the old:
the silver
and the gold
with little warning.
fortunate every morning.
mary angela douglas 23 october 2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem