Tuesday, 18 February 2014

Witch-wife

Witch-Wife
 
 
SHE is neither pink nor pale,
    And she never will be all mine;
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale,
    And her mouth on a valentine.
 
She has more hair than she needs;        
    In the sun ’tis a woe to me!
And her voice is a string of colored beads,
    Or steps leading into the sea.
 
She loves me all that she can,
    And her ways to my ways resign;        
But she was not made for any man,
    And she never will be all mine


Edna St Vincent Millay




 

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