Luvingmom's blog: "Dorothy Parker"

My own dear love, he is strong and bold And he cares not what comes after. His words ring sweet as a chime of gold, And his eyes are lit with laughter. He is jubilant as a flag unfurled -- Oh, a girl, she'd not forget him. My own dear love, he is all my world, -- And I wish I'd never met him. My love, he's mad, and my love, he's fleet, And a wild young wood-thing bore him! The ways are fair to his roaming feet, And the skies are sunlit for him. As sharply sweet to my heart he seems As the fragrance of acacia. My own dear love, he is all my dreams, -- And I wish he were in Asia. My love runs by like a day in June, And he makes no friends of sorrows. He'll tread his galloping rigadoon In the pathway of the morrows. He'll live his days where the sunbeams start, Nor could storm or wind uproot him. My own dear love, he is all my heart, -- And I wish somebody'd shoot him.

Woman wants monogamy; Man delights in novelty. Love is a woman's moon and sun; Man has other forms of fun. Woman lives but in her lord; Count to ten, and a man is bored. With this the gist and sum of it, What earthly good can come of it?

Once, when I was young and true, Someone left me sad - Broke my brittle heart in two; And that is very bad. Love is for unlucky folk, Love is but a curse. Once there was a heart I broke; And that, I think, is worse.

By the time you swear you're his, Shivering and sighing, And he vows his passion is Infinite, undying - Lady make a note of this: One of you is lying.