THERE WAS A LANGUAGE GREEN AS TREES
there was a language green as trees
in summer's ease, there was a language
in the jade of seas spelled out elegant
beyond all measure.
the way you could speak in dreams,
in pearls, not syllables
not knowing how it happened
that scene flowed onto scene illuminated
of your finding keys in unlikely places
the trace of beauty...and the myth imbued,
imbued with music,
the pace of saints across
the suddenly flowering fields
and everything feeling
like home in fine detail
down to the appling of trees
cream lace tablecloths with little blue dishes
lilacs spilling over a pale green fence
comprise the unalloyed gold
the unalloyed gold and the baby soul
the cottage brocade of roses
and no cortege
and the floors swept clean; too
charming the windows flung open then
(joy, at it's zenith) -
to the clear cut pause in the fairy tale wind
where Eternity enters in with its purple cymbals
and you all golden for awhile; in airy rooms
your children made of amber, and honey
dropped slow, the slowing down of time
each letter budding unto stars of the milky quartz
you found at your feet as a small child in the garden,
remember, murmured all roses
the way they did for Hans Andersen
you turned to greet God
not knowing what to say
just happy in the sunlight and the bluebird finishings
and foreign accents, beautiful and strange
the speech of the glittering reeds by the riverbanks
after the story's end, the marginal flowers
and the vivid heart recalled.
mary angela douglas 2 june 2018
'lilacs spilling over a pale green fence'.... what a pretty picture! There is such a lyrical flow, so absorbing that I went through it twice to savour it again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a lovely poem, Mary Angela👍👍👍