Type a new keyword(s) and press Enter to search

Proud Serrender:The Edna St.Vincent Millay Story Fiction

 

            
            
             Into the golden vessel of great song.
             Let us pour all our passion; breast to breast.
             Let other lovers lie, in love and rest;.
             Not we, --articulate, so, but with the tongue.
             The young student sat, her attentions were far from the theater teacher and the babble of scene arrangements. She watched the special guest, a young actress, Wynne Matthison. She watched the dark haired beauty with her own bright blue eyes and red-golden hair, amazed by the dark chocolate curls that surround the actress. Edna St.Vincent Millay; known as Vincent, shifted her head from her right hand to her left, as she watched the beauty cross one long leg over the other.
             "Edna . . . Edna. Ms. Millay?" the professor's voice broke through her fog, as the actress made eye contact and smiled.
             "Yes Sir?" Vincent now turned her face to the teacher.
             "I asked if you could imagine a world where you are forced by society away from your heart's true desire?" There was a funny ring to his voice as he watched Vincent waiting for her answer. Vincent looked down at the blank pages before her, which should have been filled full of notes,.
             "Um, no, no sir I would not," was her soft reply as felt the heat of a blush fill her cheeks.
             "Then I suggest you pay attention," he said. As he turned back to the blackboard Vincent turned her head again to gaze one last time at Wynne, who was looking at Vincent with those large dark eyes. Her soft red lips folded in a warm, welcoming smile.
             The class bell was sounded and Vincent packed her bag, swung it over her shoulder and walked out of the mostly empty classroom. As she passed through the door where a pair of soft, dark eyes met her, with a soft, welcoming, red mouth. They walked side-by-side chatting.
             "I was just about to take lunch" Wynne said, her voice was soft like satin.
             "Um, so was I, um, would you care for company?" Vincent could barely get out the words out. She had lowered her gaze to watch her feet as she walked, shifting her bag on her shoulder.


Essays Related to Proud Serrender:The Edna St.Vincent Millay Story Fiction