Saturday, September 29, 2007

A Poem by Belle Brezing

Sitting to night in my chamber, a school girl figure
and lonely, I kiss the end of my finger, that and that only.

Reveries rises from the smokey mouth.

Memories linger surround me.

Boys that are married or single.

Gather around me.

School boys in pantalets roumping,

Boys that now are growing to be young lands,

Boys that kiked to be Kissed; and like to give kisses.

Kisses. I remember them: Those in the corner were fleetest:

Sweet were those won the Sly in the Dark were the sweetest.

Girls are tender and gentle. To woo was allmost to win them.

They lips are good as ripe peaches, and cream for finger.

Girls are sometimes flirts, and coquettish;

Now catch and Kiss if you can sin:

could I catch both - ah, wasent I a happy Girl.

Boys is pretty and blooming sweetly,

yea sweetness over their rest!

Them I loved dearly and truely. Last and the best.

Writing by Belle Brezing, Lexington Ky

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