stepping from the rose garden
did children learn to weep thistles
was their dreaming impaired
did the roses call after them in despair
in their soft rose voices everywhere
were all the toys
broken at once.the porch swing; and my wistera…
oh did the villagers stare
and shoo them from thedoor for their disparity
then they slept out of doors
did the dream well run dry.
did their guardian angels cry
put on a show
with hand puppets
and show them where the berries grow
that they might not starve.
was day old day bread that hard
with pretend butter
I know but I’m not telling
or spelling it out for you
who don’t so much care.
I would not on a dare
produce for you
the one crystal shoe.
sweet God who saw them through
but there is an answer somewhere.
to the hardness of heart
toward those in the dark
there is the riddle raveled
on the way from here to There
and roses, everywhere.
renewed
mary angela douglas 20 october 2019
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