Poetry, April 9

[jade_sabre]

idk, blame my Facebook news feed, or farens, or the website with a limited number of poems to pick from, or the fact that I'm really tired, but here is a your poem for today, from Edna St. Vincent Millay:





The Betrothal
Oh, come, my lad, or go, my lad,
And love me if you like.
I shall not hear the door shut
Nor the knocker strike.

Oh, bring me gifts or beg me gifts,
And wed me if you will.
I'd make a man a good wife,
Sensible and still.

And why should I be cold, my lad,
And why should you repine,
Because I love a dark head
That never will be mine?

I might as well be easing you
As lie alone in bed
And waste the night in wanting
A cruel dark head.

You might as well be calling yours
What never will be his,
And one of us be happy.
There's few enough as is.

Comments

[fabricalchemist.livejournal.com]

T_________________T

[redbrunja.livejournal.com]

Oh, that's sad and practical all at once!

[willow-41z.livejournal.com]

I LIKE this.

I haven't encountered much Edna St. Vincent Millay, but what I did encounter I liked. (I wrote a paper on "What Lips My Lips Have Kissed")

[farens.livejournal.com]

I'm sorry I know it's a sad poem--but it is lovely :)