Willie
Robert William Service
‘Why did the lady in the lift
Slap that poor parson’s face?’
Said Mother, thinking as she sniffed,
Of clerical disgrace.
Said Sonny Boy: ‘Alas, I know.
My conscience doth accuse me;
The lady stood upon my toe,
Yet did not say—”Excuse me!”
‘She hurt—and in that crowd confined
I scarcely could endure it;
So when I pinched her fat behind
She thought—it was the Curate.’
Next 10 Poems
- Robert William Service : Winding Wool
- Robert William Service : Window Shopper
- Robert William Service : Wine Bibber
- Robert William Service : Winnie
- Robert William Service : Wistful
- Robert William Service : Wonder
- Robert William Service : Words
- Robert William Service : Work
- Robert William Service : Work And Joy
- Robert William Service : Worms
Previous 10 Poems
- Robert William Service : Why?
- Robert William Service : Why Do Birds Sing?
- Robert William Service : White-collar Spaniard
- Robert William Service : White Christmas
- Robert William Service : While The Bannock Bakes
- Robert William Service : Wheels
- Robert William Service : What Kisses Had John Keats?
- Robert William Service : Weary Waitress
- Robert William Service : Weary
- Robert William Service : Washerwife