from The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, 4th Edition

  • n. Archaic A plural of shoe.

from Wiktionary, Creative Commons Attribution/Share-Alike License

  • n. Plural form of shoe.

from the GNU version of the Collaborative International Dictionary of English

  • n. pl. of shoe.

from The Century Dictionary and Cyclopedia

  • n. An archaic plural of shoe.


from Wiktionary, Creative Commons Attribution/Share-Alike License

From Middle English schoon ("shoes", dative plural) and scone ("shoes'", genitive plural), from Old English scōn, scōum ("shoes", dative plural) and scōna ("shoes'", genitive plural), equivalent to shoe +‎ -en. Cognate with Scots shuin ("shoon").


  • These satin shoon and green-lit gems are terrible to me;

    Fires of Driftwood

  • There's satin shoon upon thy feet and emeralds in thy hair,

    Fires of Driftwood

  • Walter de La Mare depicted the moon as walking the night "in her silver shoon," peeking at "silver fruit on silver trees."

    In Brief: Children's Books

  • Great toes, too, of course, "she added judiciously," but those are harder to judge, usually, what wi 'the shoon and all.

    Sick Cycle Carousel

  • "Please be so kind as to remove your shoon, ma'am," he ordered.

    Sick Cycle Carousel

  • He wore soft leather on his feet, the lining for the steel shoon of his armor.


  • But she with piercing screams brought down her snow-white arm upon her bosom and loudly smote on her poor head; then turned her steps in flight, shod in her golden shoon; but Orestes, outstripping her slippered feet, clutched his fingers in her hair and bending back her neck on to her left shoulder was on the point of driving the grim steel into her throat.


  • Lowland smith would hammer shoon on a Highland shelty.

    A Legend of Montrose

  • I spread my cheek upon his path, beneath his sandal-shoon,

    The Book of The Thousand Nights And A Night

  • Nay, our lady, said Birdalone, but the shoon are not altogether done.

    The Water of the Wondrous Isles


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    Walter de la Mare

    When the last colours of the day

    Have from their burning ebbed away,

    About that ruin, cold and lone,

    The cricket shrills from stone to stone;

    And scattering o’er its darkened green,

    Bends of the fairies may be seen,

    Chattering like grasshoppers, their feet

    Dancing a thistledown dance round it:

    While the great gold of the mild moon

    Tinges their tiny acorn shoon.

    February 18, 2008