  Beside my window day and night, Its tendrils reaching left and right, A morning glory grew; With blossoms covered, pink and white And deep, delicious blue. Its care became my daily thought, Who to the sweet diversion brought A bit of florist skill To guide its progress, till it caught The meaning of my will. When through the trellis in and out It bent and turned and climbed about And so ambitious grew, O'erleaped a chasm beyond the spout Where raindrops trickled through, Then, in caressing, graceful way, Around a door knob twined one day With modest show of pride; All unaware that danger lay Just on the other side. An awkward, verdant "maid of work," Who dearly loved her tasks to shirk, Unused apartments, with a jerk The door wide open flung. And lo! there lay, uprooted quite, The object of my heart's delight— I did not weep or rant, And yet a grain or two of spite My secret thoughts would haunt. So when at night her favorite beau Beside his charmer sat below— That is, dans le cuisine— Occurred, as all the neighbors know, A semi-tragic scene. The garden hose, obscured from view, Turned on itself and drenched the two— A hapless circumstance That lengthened out her "frizzes" new, But shrunk his Sunday pants. Remember this was years agone— The madcap now hath sober grown And hose is better wrought, And neither now would run alone The risk of being caught. |
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