Food For Thought, Random

Cinderella by Sylvia Plath

The prince leans to the girl in scarlet heels,

Her green eyes slant, hair flaring inĀ a fan

As silver as the rondo slows; now reels

Begin on tilted violins to span

The whole revolving tall glass palace hall

Where guest 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 at once

Guilt-stricken halts, pales, clings to the prince

As amid the hectic music and cocktail talk

She hears the causticĀ ticking of the clock.