SONNET WROTE WHILST THINKIN’ OF MY SISTER MAYMIE'S HOMELY BEAU

By Nixon Waterman

O Love!‘ Tis saidst that thou art blind. Alas!

I didst not think that it wast truly so

Until I saw my sister Maymie's beau

Who's awful stingy and as green as grass!

How love canst make such guys as he is pass

For something beautiful, I dost not know.

Hadst I my way, you bet! he'd stand no show

Of settin’ in our parlor wastin’ gas.

He steals things, too! Last night whilst in a nook

Of our dark hall I heardst him say: “Alack!

I must steal one!” This morn I went'st to look

And found'st all our umbrellas in the rack,

And so I guess whatever‘ twast he took,

My sister Maymie madest him give it back.