A Naked Toast to Us

by Bob Browning

My spilt champagne bubbles tingle on your chest
but I must consider them so doubly blest,
for in sun they were born and now find soft rest
in a pop on the skin of my new bride's breast;
they blossomed on vines in hills far to the west,
drank every raindrop, passed each vintner's test,
til the day all were sold, the best of the best,
to slip from my glass, so alive, full of zest,
for in sun they were born and now sweetly rest,
in a sparkle and pop on my new bride's breast.