(My daughters have testily informed me that the correct title of Ms. Rossetti's poem is "What Are Heavy?" I stand corrected.)
This thread could prove far more addictive than the
Tailgate Party thread , because the combinations are nearly endless. Like Roger, I hybridized "Stopping By" last night:
My Mistress' Eyes on a Snowy Evening
by William Frost
My mistress' eyes are...are...I do not know.
Coral is far more red than the village, though.
If snow be white, why then her breasts ping here;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her snow.
My little horse must think it red and white
To stop without a farmhouse in her cheeks,
Between some perfumes. There is more delight:
The longest breath--that from my mistress--reeks.
I love to hear her, lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep, I know,
And miles I never saw a goddess go.
My mistress? When she treads before, I sleep.
And yet by heaven I think my love as queer
As any she belied before I sleep.
[This message has been edited by Julie Stoner (edited January 07, 2005).]