THE THIEF OF WISHES (FOR MARY HOPKIN)

(to the lyrical singer, Mary Hopkin, imagining her singing this, if it were a song)

neither earth nor sky, here comes the thief of wishes
to filch the light from children’s eyes from the very sun
that shone on you, Persephone in your dress of wild iris,

neither shore nor sea.

there burns the thief of wishes warning
those who should be told, instead:
oh, flee that Messenger!

or weep fresh centuries away

or shake your Christmas angels,
sleeping fast, awake-

or wait at a turquoise landing

smoothing your dress of pearl till
not a lemon drop’s left;

a train in the train yard.

she'll murmur from a glassy stream

as one who knew but was not known:
keep stealing the beat from the heart

the right word from the page

while the windmills turn as if in another age but
your own fields

your own...
fields are seldom green.

trampled by those who seem to be

and yet, are not...

I saw in a dream that I had forgot
the thief of wishes scoop the moon
till birdsong flew but not the tune

earth, glitter with the jewels

of what remains!

mary angela douglas 29 august 2013;19 june 2022