Category: Women

She wigges with Oh-such-a-wallop
As to slightly resemble a trollop.
Though male heads that turn
Make the poor girl’s ears burn–
It’ s a motion she simply can’t hollop!

by Ray Romine Thursday, January 8, 1948

Sing a song of Sylvia–
A genius in most eyes;
She still can tease, in times like these,
A pocketful of guys.

Or praise the proud Priscilla,
Who knows her cuts and joints,
No simple feat. It’s really meet
To say she has her points.

And gander good at Gertrude,
Who has this, them, and those;
But, better still, scan, if you will,
Her scarcer shoes and hose!

And take, too, tiny Tillie–
The girl no-one forgets.
Though others lack, she’s sure to pack
Some brand of cigarettes.

So, sing a song of Amazons–
What are we waiting for?
It’s plain to see, at leest to me,
No male can win this war!

by Ray Romine Thursday, April 26, 1945

This phase of the sexes quite plainly reveals
Which one is ahead in the battle of wits:
A man is exactly as old as he feels ,
But a woman’s as young as her conscience permits.

by Ray Romine Thursday, July 20, 1950

Her eyes were the green of the turbulent sea:
I looked into them, and was lost.
Her lashes, the ripples that, all wind-tossed,
Gestured rhythmically.

Now they change to the blue of an icey-hued star
That I watch with a worshipping awe.
Of what matter to me the gem without flaw,
Who wishes alone, afar?

(I await now the next change from green and from blue
To a sort of a warmer, come-get-me-son hue!!)

by Ray Romine Thursday, January 4, 1945

Wolves that whistle? Darling, don’t
Worry about them till they won’t.

by Ray Romine Saturday, September 23, 1950

December, ‘neath the mistletoe,
She kissed me rather roundly;
I tried the thing again this spring:
She slapped me, slightly soundly.

Tell me, Miss Dix, if you know:
Have I slipped–or was it the mistletoe?

by Ray Romine Tuesday, May 1, 1945

The fury of her who is scorned
Is as nothing, young men should be warned,
To that of the gal who, herself always late,
Is made occasionally to wait.

by Ray Romine Tuesday, July 18, 1950

What is cuter than a hat?
Some are large to keep the sun off;
Not a few are very flat;
Some are made so rain can run off.

Firemen wear a special kind;
Miners’ are half-light-and-half-hat;
But most of woman’s were designed
For her man to look and laugh at.

by Ray Romine Monday, June 30, 1952

The woman never did exist
Who owned the will quite to resist
The fatal ever-present lure
Of Buggy-riding Furniture!

by Ray Romine Wednesday, September 12, 1945

I hear the gal’s unbroken
Pronouncement blare and boom:
“Women are outspoken!”
But might one ask–by whom?

by Ray Romine Friday, November 17, 1950