The prince leans to the girl in scarlet heels,
Her green eyes slant, hair flaring in a fan
Of silver as the rondo slows; now reels
Begin on tilted violins to span
The whole revolving tall glass palace hall
Where guests slide gliding into light like wine;
Rose candles flicker on the lilac wall
Reflecting in a million flagons' shine,
And glided couples all in whirling trance
Follow holiday revel begun long since,
Until near twelve the strange girl all at once
Guilt-stricken halts, pales, clings to the prince
As amid the hectic music and cocktail talk
She hears the caustic ticking of the clock.
Back to Sylvia Plath
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓
To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.
Comments1Oh what a poet...Sylvia Plath's poems will forever live on. These words are captured perfectly with a spark, delivering excellent imagery. Bravo. I feel like Cinderella just reading this. The magic is there. Thank you.