Robert William Service
I sat her in her baby chair,
And set upon its tray
Her kewpie doll and teddy bear,
But no, she would not play.
Although they looked so wistfully
Her favour to implore,
She laughed at me with elfin glee
And dashed them to the floor.
I brought her lamb and circus clown,
But it was just the same:
With shrill of joy she threw them down
As if it were a game.
Maybe it was, for she would look
To see where they were lain
And act pathetic till I took
Her toys to her again.
To-day there's just an empty chair,
And 'mid a mist of pain
I'd give my life if she were there
To toss her toys again.
A tiny ghost is all I see,
Who laughs the while I cry,
And lifts her little hands with glee
--Unto the sky.
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Comments about this poem (Her Toys by Robert William Service )
- Roses, Jerusha Melanie
- Circumstances and I, gajanan mishra
- sleep tight in Idaho tonight, Mandolyn ...
- Beauty of the world is ruined, Jerusha Melanie
- Clean and cleanliness, gajanan mishra
- Holding You Tight, Michael McParland
- I'm bored with it all., gulsher JOHN
- A Rich Man, S.R. Riang
- the natural disaster.., veeraiyah subbulakshmi
- Desert Country Ways, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
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(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
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(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)