The first corsage I ever had
When still a tender teen-aged maid,
Was made of orchids , white and purple,
Leopard spots, and gold inlaid.
My swain with pride pinned the corsage
To the shoulder of my dress.
He was proud of having chosen
The very best and nothing less.
I thought it was of me he spoke,
And beamed delighted as I heard,
But his pride was in his choice of flower.
He thought my blush absurd.
Ah, vanity! Thy name is boys. They all aspire To hold a woman on their arms
Who is elegant, good-looking.
They don’t care for subtle charms.
And if she isn’t beautiful,
Why, dress her with an orchid.
At least she will look wealthy,