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Poem by Robert William Service
My precious grand-child, aged two, Is eager to unlace one shoe, And then the other; Her cotton socks she'll deftly doff Despite the mild reproaches of Her mother. Around the house she loves to fare, And with her rosy tootsies bare, Pit-pat the floor; And though remonstrances we make She presently decides to take Off something more. Her pinafore she next unties, And then before we realise, Her dress drops down; Her panties and her brassiere, Her chemise and her underwear Are round her strown. And now she dances all about, As naked as a new-caught trout, With impish glee; And though she's beautiful like that, (A cherubim, but not so fat), Quite shocked are we. And so we dread with dim dismay Some day she may her charms display In skimpy wear; Aye, even in a gee-string she May frolic on the stage of the Folies-Bèrgere But e'er she does, I hope she'll read This worldly wise and warning screed, That to conceal, Unto the ordinary man Is often more alluring than To ALL reveal.
Robert William Service
Robert William Service's other poems:
English Poetry. E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org