I sought the courtly world but it had vanished.
behind the curtains of uncertain dawns
I stood, the unappointed lookout, looking on:
gone were the purple banners and the gold
banishing of the small fears
held aloft at the parades
and decked in flowers.
I stood amazed and soundless then for hours;
the battles I thought over, veering
back, shone illimitably:
in the Pageant of everything unwon.
fresh rains have washed the back roads in the sun
while I scoop rainbows from the clouds...
they're falling away like leaves in the last
horrific winds before the calm,
but not taking me with them:
the years that no mirage sustained.
and through no haze I contemplate again
the debut in the perfect white dress
the embroidered handkerchief bestowed
the golden task importunate
only you would recognize at all.
I am seeking my lost King, the corner of a last word-
tranquil, folded down;
and reverence linked with song oh, long ago
left for dead.
knowing that I may find instead
ruined cornices dripping icicles before spring…
and these few winter roses for a crown;
more than enough to live.
my mute processions I have gathered tenderly
in the emerald shade of God.
oh let the lights shine down on Camelot renewed,
confessed in these late dreams without regret.
let knights be true.
and constancy my only jewel
though held aloft in the final verse
by fingers this absurdly frail still weeping snow
above the apparent waters of the town.
mary angela douglas 19,21 may 2012
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