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