I’ve never been blessed
with a bountiful chest
so to offer some zest
to my pitiful breast
today I got dressed
in a garment that pressed
on each fleshy crest
till they both pointed west.
It made a nice nest
on which someone could rest
but I still worried lest
the result of my quest
was an increase in jest
when I sadly confessed.
So I gave up the test
and went back to my vest.
Sherri Turner lives in Surrey. She has had numerous short stories published in women’s magazines and has won prizes for both poetry and short stories. She likes to write silly poems when she feels in danger of forgetting that this is supposed to be fun.