Best Bosoms Poems


Premium Member Love Endearing

Love is an impulse fueled by the heart,
A stimulating prompt eliciting response
Invoking affinity from halo of its soul~
Sense it, feel it, touching depth of core;
Harmonious, melodious, even in prose
Longingly love unfolds albums of yore
Etching memoirs today and tomorrow.

Love is the glimmer on giggles of child
Love is, beak to beak, feeding a newborn,
Love is a deer ambling with her fawn,
A blush of kiss love is on moonlit night,
Listen closely and you’ll hear its sound~
Sound of benevolence love expounds
Giving, receiving, never having to ask.

Love is a ballad in passions of romance
Blossoming reveries in bosoms of dawn,
Love is the chorus of nightingale’s song
Strumming its euphonic tunes of music
Enamored it comes in genuine feelings,
Vibrant and tender as flowers of spring,
Fragile and colorful as autumnal revelry.

August 22, 2022
Placed 2nd: The Meaning of Love Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Form: Verse

Premium Member Fancy Stress - Collaboration With the Amazing Nina Parmenter

There’s a party tonight so I bouffe up my hair
Pamper and powder my sweet derrière,
Arrive at the door, all done up to impress.....
Oh man, I forgot! Invite said “fancy dress”!

Pete and Sue are here, seems their theme’s ‘Tarts and Vicars’,
Sue’s skirt’s microscopic! Look at her tiny knickers! 
Pete’s in a nun’s habit; the image is scary,
I’ve not seen a nun with a chin that’s THAT hairy!

And there’s Spider-Man! (although I’m perfectly certain,
His cape is made out of his living room curtain),
His curve-hugging costume’s quite “cosy” in size,
I think our friend Spidey gobbled too many flies!

In the corner, a lady has come as Snow White,
Gee, her bosoms are out there, her corset’s so tight,
They look like two bald heads squeezed into a sack,
Glad my hubby’s not here - he’d have a heart attack!

In the hallway, a robot is looking well-oiled -
Her costume’s made out of three rolls of tin foil,
She looks more like a turkey at Christmas, so later,
I really hope no one is tempted to baste her!

By the buffet, Fred Flintstone is looking contrite,
I think he and Wilma are having a fight, 
Behaving all “caveman” has got Fred in trouble -
He showed his big man-club to poor Betty Rubble!

There’s a massive man-baby dressed just in a nappy,
The “milk” in his bottle has made him quite happy,
He’s shaking his tooshie and sucking his dummy,
And asking a lady, “can I call you Mummy?”

On the sofa is Princess Fiona from Shrek,
Blimey, Count Dracula’s nibbling her neck,
I avert my eyes to avoid his rising passion,
In walks his wife, and his face turns quite ashen.
 
His irate wife’s dressed up as pop singer Cher,
In her see through outfit she looks almost bare,
Then she lays into Drac just like Rocky Balboa -
She’s drunk as I skunk, I’m relieved I don’t know her!

Suddenly, Batman bursts through the door,
In his skintight costume - my jaw hits the floor!
He’s so muscular - bulges in all the right places,
If I play my cards right, could be me he embraces!

Well sadly I haven’t a costume of course,
Til I spot a young chappie dressed up as a horse,
I leap on his back - I’m a great improviser -
Strip off and shout “Hey I’m Lady Godiva!”

Collaboration between Jan Allison and the amazing Nina Parmenter

3/17/18
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Angelic Aroma

In a tranquil trance,
admiring elegant swans,
flowing along stately streams,
I rested my wearied head,
upon her soothing bosoms.

Her subtle fingers pacified
melancholic tones within the
chambers of my misplaced mind.
Warmth of her ethereal embrace
together with the early Spring sun,
dissolved the protective glacier,
shielding my dormant somber soul.

Under serene sapphire skies,
her eyes like unique emeralds - sparkled,
charming each beat of my heart to murmur.

As we reminisced about childhood memories,
an isolated tear escaped from my eye,
innocently immersing her silken skin.
Captivated by her angelic aroma,
I pondered if she was an angel,
cradling me within a citadel in heaven.

As twilight ignited merigold radiance 
through silver violet clouds,
her succulent lips whispered
sweet musings as they caressed mine.

The taste from her last sensual kiss,
still lingered as she ascended to the heavens,
as I pleaded;

"Take me with you."

To which she replied;
"It's not your time."

Simple Musing
Silent One
22 March 2018
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member A Shade From the Past

Just as days long ago, when decorum resolved, 
before composure, and poise,.. were corsages, unknown
Where propriety mattered, and was favored as gold,
high society, has gathered to flavor their tea
                                                      
There's a trellis, embraced by a rose climbing vine
Places are set, for dining in jade
beneath shadows that stretch under arthritic old trees
While slivers of sunshine, squeeze through the branches
of silver leafed limbs, in magnolia bloomed shade
 
Tea will be served, by large knuckled hands 
at several round tables dressed with Swiss lace designs
Wearing lavender silk is our proper Grand Dame'
who fits her surroundings, as vintage as wine

Voices are lilting like the birds in the trees
Laughter and chatter, mingle with soft, summer breezes 

 
A bouquet of old friends, around a few scattered tables. 
Silver coifed hairdos, to make celebration
Crepe myrtle and wrinkles, beneath ashes and maples
Water cress munchies, and triangle creations

Sweet honey-suckle, tucked over the porches.…
Rose petal blossoms, are painted on china 
Bridge cards, tumble by Blue Willow dishes
Biscuits from England, crumble sublimely

Large bosoms bouncing, and big floppy hats
Gossip dished up with lemon-sliced frowns
Up in the tree is the neighbor's calico cat
who catches a glance, and a chance to crawl down

Are they ladies of leisure, from a time that is lost?
Or a painting I've seen on the wall from the past?




______________________________
Inspired By the Garden Party Contest
Sponsored By Cyndi McMillan 6/6/14
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Living the Dream

Enamored in adulation of your whispering night
I adore charming moonlit sky, arousing doting vibes,
Seducing the peeking stars on incandescent arc
Beholden to romantic flame blazing in your eyes,

Wooing constellations twinkling in an astral dance
Amid outburst of meteor storms, celestial sparks
Knowing that is everything you ever asked for
From tangerine emotions scripted on lovesick skies,

When in embrace of soft twilight, holding my hands,
Deep within thoughts, you fondly fancied about
What it would be like to hear euphony of affection
In eternity of love-song warbling from our hearts,

As we take this evening into bosoms of new dawn
And kiss the resplendent morn in each other’s arms
Living the dream of ruby visions in butterfly nebula
Floating in cosmos on coral wingspans of romance.

October 17, 2019
Placed 2nd: Living the dream poetry contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Placed 3rd: Strand select D contest by Brian Strand
Form: Verse

Premium Member Friendship's Omission

As I
Soak in hummingbird’s exhale
I feel tragic sonatas
Trying to chain
Trying to crucify
My sedentary grip on instability

I smell the repugnant commoner
Blasting scattered shots
Against yesterday’s decent

I became the handsome error again.

The godfather of uplifting idle minds
Sedated within the bosoms of complacency
Because, indirectly, I was the inebriated screw-up
Immunized with community pride

As 420’d lyricists
Puff corrugated burns
To keep their spine
Fused in relatable,
Flaccid significance

They dodge flagrant accountability
Like an intentional cripple

And I
Slow dance with agnostic prayer

There would be no commandments
To remind me
That I am still beautiful inside

Beautifully flawed. 
Beautifully demonized.
Beautifully improper.
Ugly.

Yet, Gaia’s sun empowers this stanza
To breathe better breaths
To see what refuses to be seen

And no longer accept what cannot be changed

I carve milestones upon gravestones
In friends’ memoriam, nevermore

It felt peacefully redundant to be important,
Chiseling away the vowels of animosity
Attempts to hold my hands
Within this ambidextrous nightmare
Right hand, red
Left hand, chained

Courteous disdain
For developing minds,
Their figure of speech
Meant no blissful harm
With their 40 lashes
Conjured by judgmental testaments

Oh, how they preach for better tomorrows
While stirring yesterday’s pot

Becoming the “end” in “friend”...

©D.J.E.


Beatitudes

I closed my eyes to the pain
and all I saw was beauty
your beauty
caressing the blues away
I gathered ice for the swelling
but certain swelling
I didn't want to go away
 
there were pills
penetrating from your pupils
staring directly into my sky
now a blushing hue
of scarlet
traipsing the plateaus
of your soul
 
it was more than mere love
or admiration
intimacy held the door
as other gentlemen sauntered away
I stayed, piercing my friendship
to your bosoms
suckling the nipple
of your beatitudes
laying down in the wisdom
written upon your skin
 
it was no sin to love you
and it never will
I will bide my time
just on the other side of the darkness
and in the morning
I'll be waking
in the sparkling aura
that is you
© Ts Poetry  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Petals - Silence of Heartbeats

Devotion floats in the
silence of heartbeats -
only lovers savor and devour.

I crawled to her
like a caterpillar.
Cradling in her cocoon -
her vision transformed
me into a butterfly.

She is a love -
for whom
I've left behind
a trail of petals -
to roam within her
eternal evergreen Eden. 

In florescent fragility
of her femininity. 
I'm an introvert in
her extroverted flower garden. 

Her sunflower smile, highlights her
delightful dahlia dimples.
Sensations of her satin skin are
smoother than vanilla orchids.

Aromatic aura unfurls like honeysuckle,
wrapping around my emotions.
Her ethereal jasmine scent,
seduces me speechless.

Lost in her evocative lobelia eyes,
desire drinks from the cup of lust,
flowing like a fountain towards the
lusciousness of her red lily lips -

would they be sinful to kiss?

I am a drop of rain,
resting upon her petal.
Craving to be a bee
suckling nectar from pink 
blossoms of her bosoms.

May the quill of my pen,
forever dip in the juices of her ink. 
So, I can cultivate within
her flourishing fields - 
forever.

Silent One
11 July 2020

This poem was partly inspired by Vijay Pandit's poem 
called Garden of Beauty.  Thanks for the inspiration!
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

On Blue Ocean

On Blue Ocean

Blue ocean rises
and falls with cool
serenity,
creating crests
of roving waves,
seeking yellow,
sun-bleached shores.
Aah! Behold
its engorged bosoms,
heaving and trembling,
passionately
spurting out
bubbly, champagne-like,
sparkling spumes,
that elatedly
lick and tickle
flashy red tails of
flirtatious mermaids.
On summer nights,
inhale deeply
its fresh salty scent,
which clings to the air,
like an old lover.
Then savoring the
sweet, rhythmic
undulation of
rippling, indigo
ocean, I drowse in
Poseidon’s arms and,
drift off … on a dream.


01-06-2016

Contest:      Anacreontic Verse 2
Sponsor:     Edward Ebbs
Placement:  3rd
Form: Lyric

Premium Member The Great Escape!

I once had full hips which were ship shape
and bosoms which rose without duct tape
but now those who see me
pray God no bikini!
Having nightmares of what will escape.
Form: Limerick

Door O' Green

Door o’ green

The door of green it stands ajar,
I enter here in a dream, so far,
A rough hewn table, here it sits,
Big yellow candle splutters its,
An ancient room, of meditation  …..

As I look about the ancient room,
A figure seen within the gloom,
Svelte of body, bosoms loom,
The sweetness of creation,

She comes to me with loving eyes,
No words are needed, sobs or sighs,
And pressing close, and locked of eye,
I hold this incarntation,

The sudden chill of nipple freeze,
The points are made with subtle ease,
What can I do but play on these,
No words of explanation?

Moving closer within her thighs,
I trace her form, though things do rise,
Her bosoms rise, in breath caught size,
Inpaled by the situation,

I try to leave, she says don’t go,
The fire is burning me, you know,
Till passions fire has had to blow,
Exhaustion’s generation,

The magic place behind the door,
Where love does wait for me and more,
Fantasy says, yes me explore,
A mental apparition….

Don Johnson
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Satiating Dreams of Forbidden Themes

Desires whisper in shadow of Venus
And seduce intentions of clandestine love 
As rhythms attuned to romantic beats
Pulsate zealously in galactic utopia.

Bashful moon titillates lustrous vibes
In interstellar space of floating nebulae
As symphony of emotions arouses
Throbbing hearts in exotic euphoria.

Sizzling bodies elevate mystical aura 
Flooding blood-veins’ cosmic jubilation
And longings waltz on sensuous clouds
As jolt of excitement inflames bosoms.

A tango of passions presents a ballet 
For one more spin on planetary stage
High on elation of moonlit ecstasy
Savoring kisses of heavenly blessings,

Satiating dreams of forbidden themes
Unlocking secrets of mysterious galaxy.

January 14, 2020
Placed 1st: Picture prompt poetry contest
Sponsor: Brenda Chiri
Placed 3rd: Strand choice 9 contest by Brian Strand

Premium Member When Tears Touch - a Collab With Ja Fraser

WHEN TEARS TOUCH

The twelfth of November reminds me of the day            
when our paths  first crossed  then came to grow on  trail.             
Soon... all the days like waves rolled into years  
as we reminisce our pasts: joys and tears for fears.
         
A pad with pen I hold to write what pops by;                    
Each tint and curve a bell that says, you and I.                
The words are mere push and pull medley of thoughts            
shaping a circle melody of heart shots.
                    
Learning flower our way as our cultures shared;                 
gem writings topically crafted are compared.                   
Feelings flood colours to our world, closer we became--          
Creeping longing is "our meeting" as this both our aim         
 
Beep and peek are lace ladders to higher trust grounds,         
every tap and trade a thread fortifying our bond.           
The lasso tying our heartstrings to etch some rhymes,          
vital signs checked normal but awhile raise second hands  

Can it be that this a fruit of stardust's grand wand?     
Or a rose waiting to bloom and behold upon bosoms?

Now the day has arrived, suitcases packed, I smile        
a journey, I have dreamt about, many many miles.           
Nervousness cocoons but it's normal to feel this;         
for this my long wish as I enter the coming hours.

Distance and differences our silent enemies!              
But... It did not stop us from thinking sound strategies.
Interest and love gleams as our loyal company
enabling us to draw verses of harmony.

Broken bridges we cross by grace of felicity~  
yearning to meet eye-to-eye an intensity!
Along the wires we jibe to friendly deal
that as  crisp December sings we will make it real.

The cool December made our wanting a tip-top exhilarate..
and from somewhere, a song plays:

"When you feel in your skin in your bones and the hollow 
Of your heart, there's no way you can wait till tomorrow.
When there isn't any doubt about it once you come this close
Cos you know and you know that you know...."


_____________________________________________________________
*** the last stanza are lines taken from the song: "WHEN YOU KNOW" by Shawn Colvin from the movie Serendipity.

©J.A. Fraser and O.E. Guillermo
October 29, 2014; 10:05 pm
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member - 'Rebels' Was Their Name - 7

"REBELS" WAS THEIR NAME

Judge not, that ye be not judged.
 Matthew 7:1-3 KJV
----------------------------------------------

Each fair familiar feature of their face  
aglows with the dim lit day's assistance, 
rests upon strong shoulders reminiscent 
of roses bloom, see their trust and proud grace. 
Before those  same  red  cheeks  were  flags  of  shame;
tearing at their hearts, rebels they were named.
Who knows, are they friends, sisters, or lovers?
They don't look alike but but they live strong,
telling their own truth stopped rumor's hover,
truth clears the blind eyes, errs are not lifelong.
While the shrinking sun delights in its role,
can they sustain falsehood, forgive such ways?
They chose to stand strong, still in mute dismay
but in their bosoms dwell two holy souls.
__________________________________________________________
~~Inspired by the painting: Twilight Confidances 
by Cecilia Beaux 1888~~

__Olive Eloisa D. Guillermo__
4:30 pm; January 17, 2015

Premium Member Woman, the I Am

I am the woman.
I am the only woman.
I am the one woman.
My name is Women.
I nurse nations at my breast.
Ripened bosoms set loins afire.
Life spews forth from my 
parted thighs.
Astride they clamp and drain 
desire.
 Lips, that part as seas once 
did,
Guiding  the yearning with 
silent voice.
Plump and moist, they quench 
the arid 
Voices singing their grateful 
rejoice.
My blood flows red, and rich, 
and warm.
Tears stream rivulets borne of 
joy and sorrow.
A rib once lost, hath given no 
reason to mourn
 I am perfected, I will lead all 
tomorrow.
Woman, is my name.
Woman, I am the one.
Woman, I am the only one.
Woman, the  I am.

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