You are a rose, but set with sharpest spine; <br />You are a pretty bird that pecks at me; <br />You are a little squirrel on a tree, <br />Pelting me with the prickly fruit of the pine; <br />A diamond, torn from a crystal mine, <br />Not like that milky treasure of the sea, <br />A smooth, translucent pearl, but skilfully <br />Carven to cut, and faceted to shine. <br /> <br />If you are flame, it dances and burns blue; <br />If you are light, it pierces like a star <br />Intenser than a needlepoint of ice. <br />The dextrous touch that shaped the soul of you, <br />Mingled, to mix, and make you what you are, <br />Magic between the sugar and the spice.<br /><br />Elinor Morton Wylie<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nancy/
