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Robert W Service - Romance
Work rating: Medium

In Paris on a morn of May
I sent a radio transatlantic
To catch a steamer on the way,
But oh the postal fuss was frantic;
They sent me here, they sent me there,
They were so courteous yet so canny;
Then as I wilted in despair
A Frenchman flipped me on the fanny.

`Twas only just a gentle pat,
Yet oh what sympathy behind it!
I don`t let anyone do that,
But somehow then I didn`t mind it.
He seemed my worry to divine,
With kindly smile, that foreign mannie,
And as we stood in waiting line
With tender touch he tapped my fanny.

It brought a ripple of romance
Into that postal bureau dreary;
He gave me such a smiling glance
That somehow I felt gay and cheery.
For information on my case
The postal folk searched nook and cranny;
He gently tapped, with smiling face,
His reassurance on my fanny.

So I`ll go back to Tennessee,
And they will ask: "How have you spent your
Brief holiday in gay Paree?"
But I`ll not speak of my adventure.
Oh say I`m spectacled and grey,
Oh say I`m sixty and a grannie -
But say that morn of May
A Frenchman flipped me on the fanny!
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