From the Omaha Daily Bee, July 31, 1914. By William F. Kirk.

Wondrous dream love
    Don’t forget me.
Don’t it seem, love
    Like you’ve met me?
I’m so lonely
    O’er your photo
If I only
    Knew where to go to.
I have kissed
    Your cheeks so pink,
But they taste
    Like printer’s ink.
If I knew
    Just where to go
I’d love you
    And not your photo.