Submit Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Weary Waitress

by
 Her smile ineffably is sweet,
 Devinely she is slim;
Yet oh how weary are her feet,
 How aches her every limb!
Thank God it's near to closing time,
 --Merciful midnight chime.
Then in her mackintosh she'll go Up seven flights of stairs, And on her bed her body throw, Too tired to say her prayers; Yet not too sleepy to forget Her cheap alarm to set.
She dreams .
.
.
That lonely bank-clerk boy Who comes each day for tea,-- Oh how his eyes light up with joy Her comeliness to see! And yet he is too shy to speak, Far less to touch her cheek.
He dreams .
.
.
If only I were King I'd make of her my Queen.
If I were laureate I'd sing Her loveliness serene.
--How wistfully romance can haunt A city restaurant! For as I watch that pensive pair There stirs within my heart From Arcady an April air That shames the sordid mart: A sense of Spring and singing rills, --Love mid the daffodils.

Poem by
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - Weary WaitressEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Top Robert William Service Poems

Analysis and Comments on Weary Waitress

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Weary Waitress here.