Although someone has submitted a lost and found spell (which they jacked from the TV show Charmed, at least with the rhyming part)... I would like to send in mine that I use. Although it was in part taken from Charmed, too, (yes I admit it) I hav... Read more of Lost and Found Spell at White Magic.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

A Valentine.
What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No....

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

Ode To Tobacco.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy ...

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

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

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

In The Ol' Tobacker Patch.
I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to...

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

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

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

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

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

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

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

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

The Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...

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

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...



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.



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