Love Sonnets of an Office Boy Part 1

Love Sonnets of an Office Boy.

by Samuel Ellsworth Kiser.

I.

Oh, if you only knowed how much I like To stand here, when the "old man" ain't around, And watch your soft, white fingers while you pound Away at them there keys! Each time you strike It almost seems to me as though you'd found Some way, while writin' letters, how to play Sweet music on that thing, because the sound Is something I could listen to all day.

You're twenty-five or six and I'm fourteen, And you don't hardly ever notice me-- But when you do, you call me Willie! Gee, I wisht I'd bundles of the old long green And could be twenty-eight or nine or so, And something happened to your other beau.

II.

I heard the old man scoldin' yesterday Because your spellin' didn't suit him quite; He said you'd better go to school at night, And you was rattled when he turned away; You had to tear the letter up and write It all again, and when n.o.body seen I went and dented in his hat for spite: That's what he got for treatin' you so mean.

I wish that you typewrote for me and we Was far off on an island, all alone; I'd fix a place up under some nice tree, And every time your fingers struck a key I'd grab your hands and hold them in my own, And any way you spelt would do for me.

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III.

I wish a fire'd start up here, some day, And all the rest would run away from you-- The boss and that long-legged bookkeeper, too, That you keep smilin' at--and after they Was all down-stairs you'd holler out and say: "Won't no one come and save me? Must I choke And die alone here in the heat and smoke?

Oh, cowards that they was to run away!"

And then I'd come and grab you up and go Out through the hall and down the stairs, and when I got you saved the crowd would cheer, and then They'd take me to the hospital, and so You'd come and stay beside me there and cry And say you'd hate to live if I would die.

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IV.

Yesterday I stood behind your chair When you was kind of bendin' down to write, And I could see your neck, so soft and white, And notice where the poker singed your hair, And then you looked around and seen me there, And kind of smiled, and I could seem to feel A sudden empty, sinkish feelin' where I'm all filled up when I've just e't a meal.

Dear Frankie, where your soft, sweet finger tips. .h.i.t on the keys I often touch my lips, And wunst I kissed your little overshoe, And I have got a hairpin that you wore-- One day I found it on the office floor-- I'd throw my job up if they fired you.

V.

She's got a dimple in her chin, and, oh, How soft and smooth it looks; her eyes are blue; The red seems always tryin' to peep through The middle of her cheeks. I'd like to go And lay my face up next to hers and throw My arms around her neck, with just us two Alone together, but not carin' who Might scold if they should see us actin' so.

If I would know that some poor girl loved me As much as I do her, sometimes I'd take Her in my arms a little while and make Her happy just for kindness, and to see The pleased look that acrost her face'd break, And hear the sighs that showed how glad she'd be.

VI.

When you're typewritin' and that long-legged clerk Tips back there on his chair and smiles at you, And you look up and get to smilin', too, I'd like to go and give his chair a jerk And send him flyin' till his head went through The door that goes out to the hall, and when They picked him up he'd be all black and blue And you'd be nearly busted laughin' then.

But if I done it, maybe you would run And hold his head and smooth his hair and say It made you sad that he got dumped that way, And I'd get h'isted out for what I done-- I wish that he'd get fired and you'd stay And suddenly I'd be a man some day.

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VII.

If I was grown to be a man, and you And all the others that are workin' here Was always under me, and I could clear The place to-morrow if I wanted to, I'd buy an easy chair all nice and new And get a bird to sing above your head, And let you set and rest all day, instead Of hammerin' them keys the way you do.

I'd bounce that long-legged clerk and then I'd raise Your wages and move up my desk beside Where you'd be settin,' restin' there, and I'd Not care about the weather--all the days Would make me glad, and in the evenings then I'd wish't was time to start to work again.

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VIII.

This morning when that homely, long-legged clerk Come in he had a rose he got somewhere; He went and kind of leaned against her chair, Instead of goin' on about his work, And stood around and talked to her awhile, Because the boss was out,--and both took care To watch the door; and when he left her there He dropped the flower with a sickish smile.