Friday, February 4, 2011

My Anne

My Anne has hair of darkest hue
     That ever ravens wear.
It sparkles with the morning dew,
     And ripples in the air.

My Anne has always on her lips
     A tender, loving smile.
I think the angel's fingertips
     Hold it there all the while.

My Anne has eyes like the wishing star
     That shines for you and me.
She looks across the world so far,
     Yet never seems to see.

Alas, My Anne, she loves not me,
     Nor any beast or man.
But I love her because, you see,
     My dolly is My Anne.