Little brown boy, Slim, dark, big-eyed, Crooning love songs to your banjo Down at the Lafayette Gee, boy, I love the way you hold your head, High sort of and a bit to one side, Like a prince, a jazz prince. And I love Your eyes flashing, and your hands, And your patent-leathered feet, And your shoulders jerking the jig-wa. And I love your teeth flashing, And the way your hair shines in the spotlight Like it was the real stuff. Gee, brown boy, I loves you all over. I'm glad I a jig. I'm glad I can Understand your dancin' and your Singin', and feel all the happiness And joy, and don't-care in you. Gee, boy, when you sing I can close my ears And hear tomtoms just as plain. Listen to me, will you, what do I know About tomtoms? But I like the word, sort of, Don't you? It belongs to us. Gee, boy, I love the way your hold your head, And the way you sing and dance, And everything. Say, I think you're wonderful. You're All right with me. You are. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 39. AL-HAFIZ by EDWIN ARNOLD THE VALEDICTION by RICHARD BAXTER THE GENTLE CHECK by JOSEPH BEAUMONT WE HAVE DREAMED TOO MUCH OF GOLD by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE BALLADE OF THE DEVIL-MAY-CARE by FRANK GELETT BURGESS TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. THE OPEN SECRET by EDWARD CARPENTER CALIFORNIA OF THE SOUTH by GRACE ELLERY CHANNING-STETSON |