The World At Its Best Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

when God keeps juggling His coloured glass globes

to keep from thinking why don't they see Me at all

I fall into his tattered lovely pocket

and rest. and then I dream of the world at its best

newly spangled the circus arriving at midnight

with Ray Bradbury

strawberries in the morning with lemon cream

the world as scene or mise en scene in the books I love

and everything green.

I pick Him flowers and He smiles

even though He made them

as if they were something he'd never seen

and in the evenings I ask how did You choose

the fragrances, the gardenia's cream.

I wish the way I used to long ago

so many wishes I have to put them in storage

and turn and turn in the ballets all our own

the ones where we wear pink

and pretend we were roses.

mary angela douglas 3 november 2019