Informational Site NetworkInformational Site Network
Privacy
 
   Home - Smoking Articles - History of Smoking - Poems about Smoking - Giving up Alcohol

Smoking Poems

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...

To My Cigar.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes h...

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

Smoke Is The Food Of Lovers.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just th...

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...

Smoke And Chess.
We were sitting at chess as the sun went down; And he,...

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

Tobacco Is An Indian Weed.
Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut...

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
_A SAILOR'S VERSION_. They were three jolly sailors bo...

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...



HER BROTHER'S CIGARETTE.








Like raven's wings her locks of jet,
Her soft eyes touched with fond regret,
Doubt and desire her mind beset,
Fondling her brother's cigarette.

Roses with dewy diamonds set,
Drooped o'er the window's parapet;
With grace she turned a match to get,
And lit her brother's cigarette.

Her puffs of smoky violet
Twined in fantastic silhouette;
She blushed, laughed, coughed a little, yet,
She smoked her brother's cigarette.

Her eyes with briny tears were wet,
Her bang grew limp beneath its net,
Her brow was gemmed with beaded sweat,
And to her bed she went, you bet.

ANON.





Next: IN THE OL' TOBACKER PATCH.

Previous: HOW IT ONCE WAS.



Add to del.icio.us Add to Reddit Add to Digg Add to Del.icio.us Add to Google Add to Twitter Add to Stumble Upon
Add to Informational Site Network
Report
Privacy
SHAREADD TO EBOOK


Viewed 3381