Wellington Poems - Poems about Wellington

'England is a nation of shopkeepers' was never said by Bonaparte but it was those self-same tradesmen who kicked Napoleon’s **** and when at Waterloo they met as he won the day to give it a positive spin one may only say, "Wellington put the boot in!" ...

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His walk into town would prove fateful that day, As his mind wandered idly while finding his way. His footsteps were brisk like fall chill in the air, Past Wellington Gate, south of Denby town square. He paused for a time as the hearse passed him by. Its dark, somber outline contrasting the sky. Stood still as it turned in through...

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the wellington bomber dropped something people screamed and ran for cover but then paper pieces fell softly fluttering down falling like snowflakes someone shouted: it’s raining dollar bills Jack Horne for Nette’s Imagination contest, 7th June...

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It did not seem so then, but O I wish again I could spend those days of joy with you For there I learned that joy is just a rain That must disappear sometime that a dew May sparkle on a rose And a cloud may have meaning in our woes You left me when in the drought of love, so Would...

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Joy, they named for themselves, the future's blind Oyster to drink your sand. In salt tides love rises Yearning to part the twinning shell and there resign. Empress of the emerald seas, my ship for rich prizes Listed its name, cargoing only your pure laden weight Anchorless against the blustering report of bad winds. I desired you alone, and for you...

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I found myself shedding a tear at a train seat upon seeing the sights leaving the Wellington city train port to Woburn. I don't mind being called a sentimental freak, if I could just have any describe more than I can the beauty that leaves one more than enamored, bewildered and perplexed. How is it possible...

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