bosom

“My heavens!” she whispered, clasping her hands to her bosom.

Events stretch on, the rain long forgotten, the music and laughter our bosom companions.

Remarkably, at 19, he wrote of the need for “an author who can see America as clearly as Sinclair Lewis, but, unlike Lewis, is willing to take it to his bosom.”

“I want to see your bosoms jouncing during fellowship,” he commands a member of his flock.

Agnew describes two of her children “literally swinging off her long golden hair” and one that clings to her bosom for every moment of the four hours she spends with the family.