Author Anna Akhmatova He did love three things in this world: Choir chants at vespers, albino peacocks, And worn, weathered maps of America. And he did not love children crying, Or tea served with raspberries, Or woman's hysteria. ...And I was his wife. Tags Short Poems love poem love poems love poems for her love poetry poems about love romantic poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 Average: 2 (2 votes) Rate Log in or register to post comments