In My Cherry Cadenzas Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

in my cherry cadenzas
fleece shorn clouds traipse by
at the end of their summery measures:
a gold gummed star to light the way
green foil or violet's blue,
glistening dusky silver
fixed at the top of the score and shyer
than the pedals I barely know when to use.
in my cherry cadenzas, I will chase the moon
pretending I am all in lace with a mantilla-
with one pink rose or May queen in
pale lime chiffon-
why not? (with a peony fan) -
or distant in ivory earrings carved like snow,
barely discernible from the silken seconds;
why can't we stay inside the music,
(I want to ask my Grandmother)
music box where towers never failed
where the princess lived at home
with the Pinking Shears and
unassayed by the riddles posed
when the cherry cadenzas fade

mary angela douglas 8 september; revised 19 september 2013