10 Best Famous Brassiere Poems
Here is a collection of the top 10 all-time best famous Brassiere poems. This is a select list of the best famous Brassiere poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Brassiere poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of brassiere poems.
See Also:
Written by
Philip Levine |
2 a.m.
December, and still no mon
rising from the river.
My mother
home from the beer garden
stands before the open closet
her hands still burning.
She smooths the fur collar,
the scarf, opens the gloves
crumpled like letters.
Nothing is lost
she says to the darkness, nothing.
The moon finally above the town,
The breathless stacks,
the coal clumps,
the quiet cars
whitened at last.
Her small round hand whitens,
the hand a stranger held
and released
while the Polish music wheezed.
I'm drunk, she says,
and knows she's not. In her chair
undoing brassiere and garters
she sighs
and waits for the need
to move.
The moon descends
in a spasm of silver
tearing the screen door,
the eyes of fire
drown in the still river,
and she's herself.
The little jewels
on cheek and chin
darken and go out,
and in darkness
nothing falls
staining her lap.
|
Written by
Robert William Service |
My precious grand-child, aged two,
Is eager to unlace one shoe,
And then the other;
Her cotton socks she'll deftly doff
Despite the mild reproaches of
Her mother.
Around the house she loves to fare,
And with her rosy tootsies bare,
Pit-pat the floor;
And though remonstrances we make
She presently decides to take
Off something more.
Her pinafore she next unties,
And then before we realise,
Her dress drops down;
Her panties and her brassiere,
Her chemise and her underwear
Are round her strown.
And now she dances all about,
As naked as a new-caught trout,
With impish glee;
And though she's beautiful like that,
(A cherubim, but not so fat),
Quite shocked are we.
And so we dread with dim dismay
Some day she may her charms display
In skimpy wear;
Aye, even in a gee-string she
May frolic on the stage of the
Folies-Bèrgere
But e'er she does, I hope she'll read
This worldly wise and warning screed,
That to conceal,
Unto the ordinary man
Is often more alluring than
To ALL reveal.
|
Written by
David Lehman |
The longer I stare the lovelier
you look in my eyes (so made such
mirrors and spies) and I'm not done
yet as I enumerate the virtues
of your smile, gracious in defeat,
victorious in love, your breasts
and belly and below, the zone I'd
like to zone in on, your ankles
unshod, your brassiere and panties
strewn on the floor, you are
my Psyche (Greek for memory or soul)
and I will visit your sleep tonight
you won't see me but I'll be there
beside you for hours and when
you wake in my arms I will kiss
your eyes shut and then kiss you more
|