Sonnets of a Budding Bard

Nixon Waterman

Sonnets of a Budding Bard

Sometimes I get to wishin’ I might beA little lamb like Mary’s, fond and true,With Susan Sanderson as Mary, see?We’d play amidst the clover sweet with dew,And everywhere that she wast there’d be me,And if she wasn’t, I’dst be elsewhere, too

Lines Wrote in School Whilst I Shouldst Have Been Studyin’ My Lesson

I’ve just about madest up my mind to beA poet such as Shakespeare and the restOf them big literary gents, and dressedIn velvet clothes, write up the things I seeIn some grand style to show that Browning heHast been done up! And when plain folks requestMy autograph, then, throwin’ out my chest,I’llst make them wish that they wast great like me!I’m tired dwellin’ midst surroundin’s whereCheap things art always waitin’ to be done:I’dst rather loaf and dream and have long hairLike all great poets dost: and, oh! what fun,To dash off lays and sell them, then and there,Whenever I’llst be needin’ any “mon.”

Thoughts Thought Whilst Thinkin’ about Mary and Her Pet Lamb

Full oft I’ve read how Mary’s lamb didst goWhere’er his kind and lovin’ mistress went,As if the little creature wast contentIf it couldst only be where she wast. Oh,I realize what madest it hanker soTo be in school that day: it surely meantIt loved her! Yet, that mean old teacher bentOn bossin’ things – he didst not seem to know.Sometimes I get to wishin’ I might beA little lamb like Mary’s, fond and true,With Susan Sanderson as Mary, see?We’d play amidst the clover sweet with dew,And everywhere that she wast there’d be me,And if she wasn’t, I’dst be elsewhere, too.

Lines Wrote Whilst Thinkin’ about How Pa Acts When Dressin’ Up

Whilst pa and ma art dressin’ up to goTo church or somewhere, so I’ve heard ma tellThe neighbor women, pa tears ’round pell-mellAnd turns things upside down, and wants to knowWho hid his clothes! and makes ma stop and showHim where to find them. Ma she know’st full wellThey’re where he’s kept them since he earnest to dwellIn our house: that’s been twenty years or so.And when ma’s donest her level best to tryTo help pa so he wilt not fuss and fret,And found his clothes, shoes, collar, cuffs and tie,And there ain’t nothin’ more for her to get,Pa looks at her and with an awful sighSays: “Thunderation! Ain’t you ready yet?”

Lines Wrote Whilst Realizin’ We Oughtst to Be Kind to Dumb Brutes

Wise William Goat, familiarly addressedAs “Billy!” Thou art an amusin’ brute,For thou hast some traits that are truly cuteAnd others, still, so it must be confessed,That I hast learned in sorrow to detest.’Tis fun to see thee, in thy manner mute,When boys dost tease thee, give some one a “beaut,”Yet, he who’s “it” deems thee a sorry jest.Yestreen I met some other boys, and we,At thy expense, wert havin’ much delightTill thou got’st ’round to where I didst not seeThat thou wast headed my way. Sorry plight!That’s why I write this standin’ – woe is me! —And slept’st upon my bosom all last night.

Sonnet Wrote Whilst Thinkin’ of Our Parents in the Garden of Eden

O Adam and O Eve! How very niceIt must have been to live where you wast at.No neighbors anywhere with whom to spat,Nor any one to give you free advice.Ma says she’d gladly pay ’most any priceFor such a lay-out. And she’s certain thatBecause there wert no servants in your flatIs how you camest to call it “Paradise.”And pa says that if Eve hadst dressed the wayOur women do we shouldst have missed the fateOf goin’ forth into the world to stray,For she’d be somewhere, still, inside the gateDelayin’ things, as women dost to-day,A-tryin’ for to pin her hat on straight.

Lines Wrote Whilst Smartin’ from Punishment Received for Lyin’

O Washington! (O Reader, hast thou notIn readin’ high-toned poems wrote for show,Observed how many of them start with “O?”Well, anyhow, there is an awful lot.)The noble deeds thou wrought’st are not forgotBut serve to make thy name, where’er we go,A household word. If all they say is soThou didst some mighty clever stunts. That’s what!And yet, thy fame belongest to thy dad;Thou shinest by reflected light, forsooth,For thou ’rt the only boy that ever hadA pa who, when his son dared tell the truthAbout some kiddish prank didst not get madAnd lamm him! O thou heaven-protected youth!

Thoughts Thought about Ma’s Notions Regardin’ Love and House-keepin’

When sister Maymie saidst she’d like to learn

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