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

Smoking Poems

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

A Poet's Pipe.
_FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._ A poet's pipe...

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with ...

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

The Farmer's Pipe.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey ...

Tobacco.
The Indian weed, withered quite, Green at noon, cut do...

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

To An Old Pipe.
Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a ...

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...



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 Informational Site Network
Report
Privacy
ADD TO EBOOK


Viewed 3649