TWO hundred-forty towns, or more, Compose Vermont—a dozen score— And none of them, says brother James, Excepting five have weenie names. I'm just a little Groton girl, My mother calls me "Weenie Pearl;" That's why I'd like to take a drive To all the Weenie little Five. I've thought of it an awful lot, And shall some more, as like as not, And yet, perhaps, I'd hate to go For I have never been to Stowe. We'd have to start before 'twas light, I guess, and travel up to night, And then, perhaps, it wouldn't work For I have never been to Burke. Around by Memphremagog's shore I'm 'fraid the waves might try to roar, And spoil a lot of splendid joy For I have never been to Troy. We'd only go a little ways Before the Trojans turned to Jays, And then, perhaps, we'd lose our way For I have never been to Jay. The way to Wells would be so far, Perhaps we'd need an essence car; We might be robbed on Tunbridge Fells For I have never been to Wells. Now, mister, sure as I'm alive, I've mentioned all the Weenie Five, And told my name and brother's, too, And now I'd like to hear from you. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR THE ANNIVERSARY OF JOHN KEATS' DEATH by SARA TEASDALE NEW YEAR'S DAWN - BROADWAY by SARA TEASDALE JABBERWOCKY by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON THE LITANY [TO THE HOLY SPIRIT] by ROBERT HERRICK THE THREE KINGS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SONNET: FOR INSPIRATION by MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI |