shed no tears, fond Unicorn
golden are the tapestries, still,
I leave you to inhabit, shyly on these
museum walls,
in rooms with guilded conversations
guided tours-
beyond burgundy ropes of velvet
graze on, continually - with good will.
your hoof in my hand:
I hope you'll be discreet
munching the shadows of
departing guests
only a little
and the pastel mints at party's end.
Be brave, always.
I'm braiding my primrose stories
just for You
and the farther fields of honour.
mary angela douglas 30 may; 1 june 2010
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