I sometimes wisht that I wuz my Ma; You betcha I'd know what to do Ef my little boy -- comed home -- real late, A-wearin' one stockin' -- one shoe. I wouldn't care -- much -- how dirty he wuz -- Er notice the jagged ol' rip That "maded" a flap on his bran new shirt Reach clear to a quiverin' lip: Ef he slammed the door, n' runned right in, With mussedy uppedy hair -- N' it hurted clear down to the Deep O' My Heart, I'd p'tend I didn' care. Do y' think I would? -- well -- I jes wouldn' Never -------- never -------- scold him -- I'd brush all the stockin's n' mendin' right off O' My Lap ---------- so's I could hold him. N' I wouldn' speak o' the Lateness o' Time, I'd think -- jes how I'd miss him -- * * * * * Ef it happened -- he never -- comed -- home -- at -- all * * * * * N' I'd grab him -- n'hug him -- n' @3kiss him@1. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SECOND BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 3 by GAIUS VALERIUS CATULLUS WHERE A ROMAN VILLA STOOD, ABOVE FREIBURG' by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE A CONTEMPLATION UPON FLOWERS by HENRY KING (1592-1669) AULD ROBIN GRAY by ANNE LINDSAY THE ETERNAL GOODNESS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THOREAU'S FLUTE by LOUISA MAY ALCOTT THE GULF by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE |