Lonesome Bill has fallen love,
And with a mannequin, no less.
Touching her only with a glove,
So that he won’t soil her fine dress.
His romance is in the window,
Of a local department store.
The shoppers looking in don’t know
Bill’s in love with Model Twenty-four.
He lingers there, behind drawn drapes,
Folding blouses, sweaters and such.
Now and then a sad sigh escapes,
With her out front, beyond his touch.
Five o’clock, when customers leave,
And all of the doors are locked tight,
Poor Bill wears his heart on his sleeve,
And bids his plastic love good night.
He enters the window display,
Stepping up to Twenty-four’s side,
Straightens any hair gone astray,
And her slip hem attempts to hide.
Bill, added the undergarment,
Aware the sheer dress wasn’t right.
Made jealous, at a guy’s comment,
“Those great legs stand out in sunlight.”
Darkening the window showcase,
He glances both ways up the street.
Sweetly then, he kisses her face,
And spreads rose petals by her feet.