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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357919" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Intro</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Er name's Doreen…Well spare me bloomin' days!<br>You could er knocked me down wiv 'arf a brick!<br>Yes, me, that kids meself I know their ways,<br>An' 'as a name for smoogin' in our click!<br>I just lines up an' tips the saucy wink.<br>But strike! The way she piled on dawg! Yer'd think<br>A bloke was givin' back-chat to the Queen….<br>'Er name's Doreen.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I seen 'er in the markit first uv all,<br>Inspectin' brums at Steeny Isaacs' stall.<br>I backs me barrer in—the same ole way<br>An' sez, 'Wot O! It's been a bonzer day.<br>'Ow is it fer a walk?'…Oh, 'oly wars!<br>The sorter look she gimme! Jest becors<br>I tried to chat 'er, like you'd make a start<br>Wiv ANY tart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">An' I kin take me oaf I wus perlite.<br>An' never said no word that wasn't right,<br>An' never tried to maul 'er, or to do<br>A thing yeh might call crook. Ter tell yeh true,<br>I didn't seem to 'ave the nerve—wiv 'er.<br>I felt as if I couldn't go that fur,<br>An' start to sling off chiack like I used…<br>Not INTRAJUICED!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nex' time I sighted 'er in Little Bourke,<br>Where she was in a job. I found'er lurk<br>Wus pastin' labels in a pickle joint,<br>A game that—any'ow, that ain't the point.<br>Once more I tried ter chat 'er in the street,<br>But, bli'me! Did she turn me down a treat!<br>The way she tossed 'er 'cad an' swished 'er skirt!<br>Oh, it wus dirt!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A squarer tom, I swear, I never seen,<br>In all me natchril, than this 'ere Doreen.<br>It wer'n't no guyver neither; fer I knoo<br>That any other bloke 'ad Buckley's 'oo<br>Tried fer to pick 'er up. Yes, she was square.<br>She jist sailed by an' lef' me standin' there<br>Like any mug. Thinks I, 'I'm out er luck,'<br>An' done a duck</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Well, I dunno. It's that way wiv a bloke.<br>If she'd ha' breasted up ter me an' spoke,<br>I'd thort 'er jist a commin bit er fluff,<br>An' then fergot about 'er, like enough.<br>It's jest like this. The tarts that's 'ard ter get<br>Makes you all 'ot to chase 'em, an' to let<br>The cove called Cupid get an 'ammer-lock;<br>An' lose yer block.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I know a bloke 'oo knows a bloke 'oo toils<br>In that same pickle found-ery. ('E boils<br>The cabbitch storks or somethink.) Anyway,<br>I gives me pal the orfis fer to say<br>'E 'as a sister in the trade 'oo's been<br>Out uv a jorb, an' wants ter meet Doreen;<br>Then we kin get an intro, if we've luck.<br>'E sez, 'Ribuck.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O' course we worked the oricle; you bet!<br>But, 'struth, I ain't recovered frum it yet!<br>'Twas on a Saturdee, in Colluns Street,<br>An'—quite by accident, o' course—we meet.<br>Me pal 'e trots 'er up an' does the toff<br>'E allus wus a bloke fer showin' off.<br>'This 'ere's Doreen,' 'e sez. 'This 'ere's the Kid.'<br>I dips me lid.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'This 'ere's Doreen,' 'e sez. I sez 'Good day.'<br>An', bli'me, I 'ad nothin' more ter say!<br>I couldn't speak a word, or meet 'er eye.<br>Clean done me block! I never been so shy.<br>Not since I was a tiny little cub,<br>An' run the rabbit to the corner pub<br>Wot time the Summer days wus dry an' 'ot<br>Fer me ole pot.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Me! that 'as barracked tarts, an' torked an' larft,<br>An' chucked orf at 'em like a phonergraft!<br> Gorstrooth! I seemed to lose me pow'r o' speech.<br> But, 'er! Oh, strike me pink! She is a peach!<br>The sweetest in the barrer! Spare me days,<br>I carn't describe that cliner's winnin' ways.<br>The way she torks! 'Er lips! 'Er eyes! 'Er hair!…<br>Oh, gimme air!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I dunno 'ow I done it in the end.<br>I reckerlect I arst ter be 'er friend;<br>An' tried ter play at 'andies in the park,<br>A thing she wouldn't sight. Aw, it's a nark!<br>I gotter swear when I think wot a mug<br>I must 'a' seemed to 'er. But still I 'ug<br>That promise that she give me fer the beach.<br>The bonzer peach!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now, as the poit sez, the days drag by<br>On ledding feet. I wish't they'd do a guy.<br>I dunno'ow I 'ad the nerve ter speak,<br>An' make that meet wiv 'er fer Sundee week!<br>But strike! It's funny wot a bloke'll do<br>When 'e's all out…She's gorn, when I come-to.<br>I'm yappin' to me cobber uv me mash….<br>I've done me dash!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Er name's Doreen….An' me-that thort I knoo<br>The ways uv tarts, an' all that smoogin' game!<br>An' so I ort; fer ain't I known a few?<br>Yet some'ow…I dunno. It ain't the same.<br>I carn't tell WOT it is; but, all I know,<br>I've dropped me bundle—an' I'm glad it's so.<br>Fer when I come ter think uv wot I been….<br>'Er name's Doreen.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Clarence+Michael+James+Stanislaus+Dennis">Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357919" data-title="The Intro de Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis" data-description="'Er name's Doreen…Well spare me bloomin' days!
You could er knocked me down wiv 'arf a brick!
Yes, me, that kids meself I know their ways,
An' 'as a name for smoogin' in our click!
I just lines up an' tips the saucy wink.
But strike! The way she..."></div>
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