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Cheerful, Elizabeth von Schonberg, in English Clear filters

CheerfulElizabeth von Schonberg

Life Begins

A fairy polished buttercups One early Summer morn; A skylark struggled thru his shell He was there being born. "Oh, dear," he cried, "What shall I do? My house! It falls apart!" All night long the cry had torn His poor, wee skylark heart! Crack! Crack! the shell kept breaking Despair filled skylark's breast. “Break thru, your house will fall on you!" (Ah, soft and sheltered nest. . .) The fairy wrung her tiny hands And bowed her golden head; She rocked with grief for skylark And all earth's needless dread.
CheerfulElizabeth von Schonberg

Danny "Wagon"

"Danny Wagon—dat's my name!" Wagner was too much to say So he answered me this way: He was two—just yesterday. Impish eyes smiled up to mine Then were slowly lost in thought; Blue with dreams—a sleepy tot Gazing softly—seeing what? Then his mood had changed again— Song begun; was still'd instead As he toddled to his bed "Good night, Mummy dear," he said. Danny Wagon—standing here Looking at you there in sleep Dimpled hand by rosy cheek Life seems suddenly less bleak!
CheerfulElizabeth von Schonberg

Telephone Twaddle

I have two pet aversions— Some people now have none, But both of mine are talking Long on a telephone. If conversation goes beyond Three minutes and a half I wish they'd write a letter Or even telegraph! Important messages are said Then how the seconds drag I say: "Oh, yes?" or maybe “No" When conversations lag. And did you ever listen To nothing long drawn out While waiting for a busy line To clear? and still they shout.
CheerfulElizabeth von Schonberg

Resolution

You have thought you'd like to diet? Well, take my advice: don't try it Unless you can scram—you'll find Soon as you make up your mind, All the friends you ever knew Start right in, inviting you Out to dinner, lunch or tea— And it always puzzles me How the scales can climb so far With that snack of caviar! Well, there WERE some things I tasted— Seemed a shame to have them wasted; Yes, I'll find a hide-away And count calories—some day!
CheerfulElizabeth von Schonberg

Model's Protest

Yes, I can feel them rip and tear— The veils I usually wear About my soul. When you intrude One certainly is in the nude! Of no avail, plans to defy The glances from your mystic eye; I even wore an ermine cape A sort of armor meant to drape Some nonchalance, some steel as well About my inner self; but hell! It might as well be gossamer. No elegance in Arctic fur Serves to distract that probing orb: Brushes bewitched and trained absorb Your every thought, and place it there Upon the canvas, in the glare
CheerfulElizabeth von Schonberg

Steam Room Soliloquy

"You weigh a hundred-twenty-four? Now me—I must be eighty more, And that's what I don't understand— My! the shower sure is grand . . . I don't eat much; my husband, he Is fussy tho'; you ought to see The steak and mushroom dish I fix, And what a cocktail HE can mix! "He's grand; he brings the limousine To take me home—I'm so all in— 'Now Baby, don't exert yourself, The can of ham there on the shelf'— He likes the sauce I make with wine And plenty sugar—cloves—it's fine With salad; say, do you like crab? Or lobster? I put just a dab
CheerfulElizabeth von Schonberg

Sleepyhead

Is it night or morning now? That's what I'd like to know! Eyelids weighted down with sleep Dare not risk a single peep— I MIGHT see some waking light! Is it morning—or still night?

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