Each time I go to her house I wear my very best. I touch the bell sedately And am a proper guest. I nibble at my wafer, I sip just half my tea. And while I view the garden She cuts some blooms for me. I utter proper praises About her well-kept lawn . . . But oh, it takes me hours To smile when I have gone. But when I come to your house . . . Heigh-ho! The clothes I choose. My dress is faded gingham, I've pollen on my shoes. The knocker's never lifted, The bell's not touched at all. I push the door wide open And call you from the hall. There is no cup to balance, There is no cake to munch. We hunt a sunny meadow Without a thought of lunch. I trot along beside you With zeal no miles could faze. And heart so full of singing It lasts for days and days. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IRELAND by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE RAJPOOT WIFE by EDWIN ARNOLD UNPERFECTED by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON MAUDLIN'S SONG: 2 by GORDON BOTTOMLEY UPON MY DEAR AND LOVING HUSBAND HIS GOING INTO ENGLAND, 1661 by ANNE BRADSTREET |