Deborah’s Rainy Day Skirt

I have sung a song to her hazel eyes,

     To her teeth which gleam like pearls;

I have made an ode to the wheel she rode,

     And sung to her chestnut curls.

I have penned a lay to her queenly form,

     To her poise which is proudly pert;

But now I must tune a delicate rune

     To Deborah’s rainy day skirt.

Oh Deborah’s rainy day skirt, you see,

     Is brief to a huge degree!

And the lines below they trouble me so,

     They’re burned in my memory.

O Deborah’s fair in all of her gowns,

     But a truth I must assert:

She’s a joy supreme, a consummate dream,

     When out in her rainy day skirt.

                                         Joe Cone

July 26, 1900