Martin Luther King.ca - Read famous historial articles or little known poems speaking about the black experience throughout history. Visit Martin Luther King.caInformational Site Network Informational
Privacy
   Home - Smoking Articles - History of Smoking - Poems about Smoking - Giving up Alcohol

Smoking Poems

Pipe And Tobacco.
When my pipe burns bright and clear, The gods I need n...

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...

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

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

An Encomium On Tobacco.
Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, And...

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

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

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

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

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

The Scent Of A Good Cigar.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Somethi...

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

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

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

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...



SIC TRANSIT.








Just a note that I found on my table,
By the bills of a year buried o'er,
In a feminine hand and requesting
My presence for tennis at four.

Half remorseful for leaving it lying
In surroundings unworthy as those,
I carefully dusted and smoothed it,
And mutely begged pardon of Rose.

But I thought with a smile of the proverb
Which says you may treat as you will
The vase which has once contained roses,
Their fragrance will cling to it still.

For the writer I scarcely remember,
The occasion has vanished afar,
And the fragrance that clings to the letter
Recalls--an Havana cigar.

W.B. ANDERSON.





Next: THE BETROTHED.

Previous: MY PIPE AND I.



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 2205