Language, My Language Poem by Mary Angela Douglas
Language, My Language
Let words be clear and crisp as apples
Fresh as the October air
Let meaning be clear
Transparent, as the first green of Aprils
Crystal as streams from the blue mountains,
Headwaters of dreams
Let there be light in every syllable
And the bubbling of birdsong
Let icicles hang from the snowy roofs
Of wordtown
And break off like stars
In the warming winter sun.
mary angela douglas 2 may 2024
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/17/2024 5:55:44 AM # 1.0.0.1119
