Silver Screen Series and Babes of Antiquity

 I wrote this sonnet some fifteen years ago in response to raging epidemic of plastic surgery. I'm not one to favor such surgeries unless there are honest medical reasons behind such decisions. Yeah, there are a few other acceptable reasons, but when a 20 year old goes for it for little reason other than to increase the bust line, then I object.

I just happen to prefer natural.


BABES OF ANTIQUITY

Remember bustle-butted, hanky flips,
and guarded garters, tight below the hips,
When braided corsets forged her hourglass?
The look became her vintage crassy class. 

She used these tools to work the hearts of men,
Her aire, pristine and pure, defiled the grin,
Of dapper, derbied gents all tailed and tied,
with Grandpa’s watch still vested by his side. 

Today, the gals are golden, all through and through.
The corset's gone, because their breasts are new.
Doc’s vacuum cleaner left no girdle lines,
To show beneath their vane augmented minds. 

Those debs of old, though plated, were, oh so bold,
These gals of gold, are solid, but bought and sold.  

So, I decided that perhaps I should start my weekly siren photo series. Besides, have you seen some of these silver screen ladies? Crikey!

Poem - Ode to the Bonnie McGillacutty

 .

Aye, I sawr ‘er teesting’ the malt,

With lips o’ sweet nectahr, thar.

And a bosom ample in the fleshy,

Sa’isfaction, if only she wahr bare.

‘Er name esceeps me, but for,

A moment, now, then I tink,

‘Er ample wares o' plenty o’

I call 'er, Tits McGillacutty.

A fine Irish lass she wus,

“Er skin as white as milk.

‘Er treasures did define ‘er.

She peeked uh‘neath me kilt.

Th’ lass MacGillacutty,

With carls in ‘er tressy hair,

She war' a feisty milk maid,

An’ sported a lovely pair.