A Woman's Way
Women is strange. You take my tip; I'm wise.
I know enough to know I'll never know
The 'uman female mind, or wot su'prise
They 'as in store to bring yer boastin' low.
They keep yeh guessin' wot they're up to nex',
An' then, odds on, it's wot yeh least expecks.
Take me. I know me wife can twist me round
'Er little finger. I don't mind that none.
Wot worries me is that I've never found
Which way I'm gittin' twisted, till it's done.
Women is strange. An' yet, I've got to own
I'd make a orful 'ash uv it, alone.
There's this affair uv Rose. I tells yeh straight,
Suspicious don't describe me state uv mind.
The calm way that Doreen 'as fixed the date
An' all, looks like there's somethin' else be'ind.
Somethin' - not spite or meanness; don't think that.
Me wife purrs sometimes, but she ain't a cat.
But somethin'. I've got far too wise a nob
To be took in by 'er airs uv repose.
I know I said I'd chuck the 'ole darn job
An' leave 'er an' the parson deal with Rose.
But now me mind's uneasy, that's a fack.
I've got to manage things with speshul tack.
That's 'ow I feel - uneasy - when I drive
Down to the train. I'm thinkin' as I goes,
There ain't two women, that I know, alive
More difrint than them two - Doreen an' Rose.
'Ow they will mix together I dunno.
It all depends on 'ow I run the show.
Rose looks dead pale. She ain't got much to say
('Er few poor bits uv luggage make no load)
She smiles when we shake 'ands, an' sez Goodday
Shy like an' strange; an' as we take the road
Back to the farm, I see 'er look around
Big-eyed, like it's some queer new land she's found.
I springs a joke or two. I'm none too bright
Meself; but it's a slap-up sort uv day.
Spring's workin' overtime; to left an' right
Blackwood an' wattle trees is bloomin' gay,
Botchin' the bonzer green with golden dust;
An' magpies in 'em singin' fit to bust.
I sneak a glance at Rose. I can't look long.
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Added by Poetry Lover
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