Waterloo Poems - Poems about Waterloo

Flying over the front lines with the French Escadrille Lafayette a brown and barren belt below a strip of murdered nature and yet during the warm months of spring and summer seeds in the shattered ground would grow delicate vibrant crimson flowers in row after row after row and in those poppy fields that's how we remember them all the fallen soldiers those unforgotten gallant men tho'...

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Like Napoleon, I was born. He led the French army, I made sure the sheep got shorn. And while I was covered deeply in sheep's doo, he met his Waterloo. And when on Saint Helena he died, none of my sheep cried....

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I looked at you a thousand times before I saw you once You never did look back at me my vision sorely trumped Till that one day I saw you clear in substance and in form But still I longed for one more look where I still got it wrong You’re with me now in all I say and everything I do Though never more...

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For the merited sake of Kangaroo Let’s march towards any exhibiting zoo, Advised to be humble the Napoleon-Tough, Who still could meet his Waterloo With a kick, hard and rough From the Mature Kangaroo. For the clear heroism of Kangaroo, Control the urge to at it boo: The Beautiful Brain behind our incubator By medics as treasured as a...

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saffron shafts of sun~ behind lofty heights of faded silver and sapphire veiled by the hazy fog spell prelude to dusk faded titanium bridges are galloping white horses crossing the river of dreams where our lost story drifts illuminating faint gray surrounding misty water like when you cast a fading smile~ as you wave goodbye 14 March 2021 Notes: Waterloo Bridge is a series of 41 impressionist oil paintings...

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There lies a field, where mice run and race. I bought some traps, you know, just in case. No risk of finger snaps fool-proof, with gluey flaps... Mouse does not die; but he's kept in place. Eyes beg for mercy, what do I do? rain bucket handy offers a clue. Mouse caught in sticky trap; submersion, it’s a wrap. Blitzkrieg, one...

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Ladies and gentlemen, laddies, lassies one and all Water, water everywhere, be careful lest you fall. Please take into account, we've found wet boards do shrink and remind your children, this water's not to drink. WHY, ye visitors to Snow Cave lake, WHY for my job, you, your wat’ry fears forsake? Tell me, fellow-creatures of geologic science WHY in my...

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With every extra inch into darker depths Wherein lean lot's venomous fang bites, I brave worse pains and stings that rise Past all steel into hitherto unfelt heights. Every fresh day calls exacerbated fears That trim stouter hope and fuller cheers, Dealing fatal blows to potent prospects; Fogging mirrors whereon all life reflects. Even while I deem the battle finally won, Still I meet...

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Waterloo Clerihew 23-Skidoo Napoleon Bonaparte 1769 Corsica is where he got his start One of the greatest commanders in history His manner of death a 200-year-old mystery Napoleon played it close to the vest With his armies he was always the best But 'twas nothing he could do When he met his Waterloo Lived his last few years under house arrest Napoleon drank the water...

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I TREMBLE AND SHAKE COLD AS THE ARCTIC MY HEAD FOGGY WITH FEAR EYES DILATE HANDS CLENCH MY HEART HEAVY THIS NAGGING AND PRODDING MY FEARS MADE TRUE I'VE RUINED ME AGAIN I WANT TO ESCAPE FROM THE MADNESS OF ME THIS BUMBLING UNCERTAINTY THIS HURRICANE OF DOUBT....

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Waterloo by Robert (Bob) Moore © 2017 The night before the battle, the soldier would not sleep thinking of his family, and memories to keep with thoughts about tomorrow, and where he may be found when the battle is finally over, and the recall bugles sound He would think of...

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Waterloo 200 years ago Wellington and Blucher with soldiers made up of ruffians and ISIS type henchmen, beat Napoleon’s army won and that was sad kings and the nobility continued to rule unelected and setting back an European revolution that could have saved us from a world one brought fraternity and equality to a reality which is not today...

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Partir c'est mourir un peu.. Att skiljas är att dö en smula. Av barn, fyllon och dårar får man höra sanningen. Det är bäst att bita i det sura äpplet. Den dagen, den sorgen. The Story Begins I remember long ago of night time kisses Full of desire and apprehension, that you would disperse You proclaimed your love, into my ear I slept alone,...

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In London fog, the river stills. In silver sleep, it cools and fills with cobalt mist as dawn unfolds; above the Thames, the sun bleeds gold. Into the haze, it pours and pools like melting opal, liquid jewels until the brume of morning fades to prune the sky with unseen blades that slice the flaming clouds in two to frame a glimpse of Waterloo. *Inspired...

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Cowpoke Hank hired on fer a dollar a day and found. He wuz knowed as the best bronc-buster around! They wuz allus a roll-yer-own a-danglin' frum his lips, And he wore a pair of 44 shootin' arns on his hips. He wuz lean and lank and had spent nigh thirty years in the saddle. He wuz bow-legged as a pliers...

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