A Song In The Front Yard

I've stayed in the front yard all my life.
I want a peek at the back
Where it's rough and untended and hungry weed grows.
A girl gets sick of a rose.

I want to go in the back yard now
And maybe down the alley,
To where the charity children play.
I want a good time today.

They do some wonderful things.
They have some wonderful fun.
My mother sneers, but I say it's fine
How they don't have to go in at quarter to nine.
My mother, she tells me that Johnnie Mae
Will grow up to be a bad woman.
That George'll be taken to Jail soon or late
(On account of last winter he sold our back gate).

But I say it's fine. Honest, I do.
And I'd like to be a bad woman, too,
And wear the brave stockings of night-black lace
And strut down the streets with paint on my face.

Poem topics: , , , , , , , , ,

Rate this poem:

Add A Song In The Front Yard poem to your favorites

Add Poet Gwendolyn Brooks to your favorites

Popular Poets

Sant Tukaram (4 poems)
Georg Frederic Handel (1 poems)
William Lisle Bowles (17 poems)
Emily Lawless (3 poems)
William Langland (1 poems)
Eamon Grennan (4 poems)
Joyce Kilmer (63 poems)
Arthur Upson (4 poems)
Edmund Waller (4 poems)
Evie Shockley (2 poems)

Popular Poems

Le forgeron, by Emile Verhaeren
The Lonesome Wave, by Hilda Conkling
A Song. Go Tell Amynta, Gentle Swain, by John Dryden
The Hymn to Physical Pain, by Rudyard Kipling
The Cheese Pionner, by James McIntyre
Modern Love Xxviii: I Must Be Flattered, by George Meredith
Flesh And Spirit, by William Baylebridge
The Santa-Fe Trail (A Humoresque), by Vachel Lindsay
To The Unknown Warrior, by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Tasso Dying, by Konstantin Nikolaevich Batiushkov