The Titty Poem

There’re many shapes and sizes of breast,
or tits as some may say.
Some are small and dainty others are large
and to and fro they sway.
Oh yes there’re many forms
of those lovely adornments upon a woman’s chest.
Some are soft and smooth as silk,
a real pleasure to fondle and stroke.
There those that are bulbous full of milk
suckle and squeeze to give your mouth a soak.
Some are perky and fill a dress well,
forming the ever succulent bodice,
catching the wandering eye with each breathing swell,
the kind you lay a weary head upon in solace.
Some are small and delicate like honey drips,
fitting perfectly in wanton palm.
Petite and fleshy nipples adorn their tips
to lustful eye a sensuous balm.
some droop and dangle
while others sit firmly in place,
visible from every angle,
in full stride a hazard to the face.
Some breasts are a sight to behold
and some are ghastly, wrinkled bags!
A sad inevitability when tits grow old.
Long past ripeness they all start to sag.