Wilson Poems | Examples

Blair Minty Wilson

This is a story of wee mental Blair minty Wilson, 
he was a father a brother a nephew an uncle a cousin and one true  friend, 
he was loved by everyone that he did meet, 
His mental health hid from all to see,
And the world was cruel to what he was going through, 

On the outside he was full of joy, and he was so proud of his baby boy, 
no matter to where he went, he took his dog jack walks through hills and glens,

He was some kid that was so kind, on the outside he smiled,
But had loads on his mind, 
No matter where minty went, 
he was a funny lad and loved to the end, 
we will keep him close to our hearts, 
and he will never ever part, 
Such a shame you could not speak, to how you felt so we could not see, 
wish you opened your heart, and we knew you would never have to part,
but we hope your with your mum and your grandparents love,
till we meet again r i p our friend,
in the church they bellowed out kodaline tune, 
that touched our hearts too, and at the grave we said goodbye, 
with a tear in our eye, 
but we know you will be there, and hear us all in our prayer, 
till we meet once again, sleep tight minty till we meet again,

Book: Where the Red Fern Grows By Wilson Rawls

one boy, two dogs; together, they define the beautiful in dreaming

Poetry In Motion Contest Wilson

Every Tuesday on the dot,
I would be off to the newsagent like a shot.
A solitary sixpence,all my wealth
to pick up my favourite comic from his shelf.

Not the Beano,Beezer,Dandy or Eagle...
the Hotspur and Wizard were my kings regal.
To read of my hero W W Wilson,the wonder man,
sporting giant extraordinaire,batted bowled and ran.

Soccer ,cricket were a piece of cake,
he left all others in his wake.
Give him the ball and the game was soon over,
he even outscored Roy of the Rover.

Bowling right armover,on a sixpence seven times from eight,
well above average Wilson was incredibly great.
He'd bowl all day at one twenty an hour,
never stopping to take a shower!

In futuristic black body suit,
an English record breaker without dispute.
My inspiration,this imagined prince,
never bettered then,before or since!

Clerihew Wilson

For Dennis Bruce Wilson of Thame
as a hobby poetry was hid game
Famed for his WWIi elegy
'A Common Soldier' for all to see

Jackie Wilson

I don't know why you choose to hurt me,
It doesn't have to be this way.
You are a cold and distant,
,I don't know why you choose to stay.
I never felt such love and passion,
As i did when I made love to you.
Now you are a stranger, 
I cant believe that it's really you.
I miss the way we used to be, 
I saw the love in your eyes.
Now I see a different man,
A stranger I don't recognize.
I don't know why I choose to stay,
I don't know what to do.
My love for you remains the same,
Even though it's changed for you.

Wilson Lucille

Lucille was a whale,
     A really big deal.
     She had gone to a whale finishing school.
    Graduated to a really silly pool,
    That made her feel such a fool.


    Lucille had a doctorate in water you see,
    And planned her escape to a much larger lake.


    Took a bath in a bubbly leaf tub.
    Ate all the bubbles,
    Ate all the leaves,
    Grew much bigger than she could please.


    The tub scooted along on three sets of wheels,
    To a tide that pushed the tub aside.


    Lucille landed on a slide,
    ...down the drain,
    ...out in the rain,
    ...across the street,
    ...past pairs of feet.


    Off to the sea where she could be free.

Wilson the Watcher

You're obsessed

Haiku For August Wilson

Haiku For August Wilson

Piano...Fences...
Symbolic allegory:
The poetry of prose

Fortune

All the bigwigs in our village
Took refuge in the mercy
Of Fortune.

It came to such a situation that
If we locked our house and left,
Before we reached the goal,
At least ten fifteen Fortunes
Would come looking for us.

I noticed
How quietly
Does this Fortune make its entry.

Earlier, it was so noisy.
“Tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow”
The sing song chant
Was amusing.

Slowly, Tomorrow became Today.
“Today today today”
How many times have I joined the chant!

Now,
How forlornly
How silently
Does Fortune arrive!
It has lost its speech.

It has contempt for itself.
It has shrunk into itself
More than the ex-serviceman
Standing in guard before an ATM.

Where did Fortune’s voice vanish?

Does it mean that Fortune has no voice?
That Fortune itself has ceased to exist?



Kuzhur Wilson / Trans by Ra Sh

Anna Marie Wilson

'ANNA MARIE WILSON'


     A Angel was sent to us this day
     Now we watch her grow, and don't let her stray
     Needing to fulfill her life with love each day
     A special child in every way

     Moments of joy throughout the years
     A few missed steps and some tears
     Reaching for you and showing we care
     I hope that you relize, we are here
     Every thing you do, you go to great heights

     We are proud of what you have achieved
      I wouldn't change anything, for the joy that you bring
      Listerning to you, telling me your dreams
      Such happiness to my heart is what you bring
      Only you have that glow, that lights up my life
      Never forgetting, I Love You Always and Forever

Courtney Lynne Wilson

"COURTNEY LYNNE WILSON"

     Counting the blessing, I feel today
     Oh Lord than you for bringing this child our way
     Understanding the joy, that she brings
     Reaching for her tiny hands and caressing everything
     This is my Granddaughter, I'm so happy I could sing
     Now the moment of this life, makes me proud
     Every moment of her life, I'll be on a cloud
     Yes this is the beauty of life

     Loving you is going to be so easy
     Your beauty is like a bloomin rose
     Never worrying as we bring you home
     Nurturing you for life, you'll never be alone
     Each and every day until you are grown

     Wondering what life's roads will come your way
     It's a quest to see that you reach your goals
     Love, laughter, a tear or two
     Simple life, getting you through
     One day at a time we watched you grow
     Now your a Woman, starting your own home

Patrick Wilson

Patrick lives in Edinburgh, Scotland, 
Plays boccia and has Cerebral Palsy,
Which very slowly turned his hand,
Until he started to win intelligently. 

The Scottish Championships gave, 
An arena for him to prove and shine, 
Such that he took the silver stave, 
At the 2014 Worlds in China land fine.

Wilson the Artist

This poem is about an artist
Wilson is the name that he goes by
He draws from daily experience
His medium is life

The streets, the gallery where he exhibits
That my friend is Wilson's style
With his quick wit and compliments
He paints on his subjects...smiles

Wilson feels that strong artistic pull
To take the palate of life
Sweeping brush strokes of inspiration
In an effort to paint things right

Wilson is a true artist
One of a dying breed
Takes those whose path he crosses
And draws upon their needs

Chandler N Wilson

Chandler n.wilson misses his girlfrend , hooz parents made her step away!

Chandler n.wilson wants a new girlfrend , sum one hoo will stay !

Loneley is a relative term . Lezbeins hoo want babeys are loneley if thay can't 

Fynd any sperm ! Sum people doent like getting stuck with splinters !

Sum people doent like the Chicago winters !

Agenders are the feemales hoo have cut off all thair hair ! 

Sum of them wair lipstick ! But they doent use any nair !...

My Story--Deb Wilson

Tumbled into this world head first.
Knowing not what was in store.
Along the way some bubbles burst.
Yet on this journey I found my core.

First years were filled with pain and grief.
Lost child was I with no direction.
Seemed I'd never be granted relief.
I was so hungry for love and affection.

As I grew up the colder I got.
Took myself down a rocky road.
Still there were many visions sought.
Yet couldn't shake off this heavy load.

Time spent in shadows then turned to dawn.
As life rolled on so much was learned.
Soon a lot of the pain was gone.
Calm set in ,the right bridges were burned.

Now love surrounds me as does laughter.
I've found peace and also strength.
Finally know what I'm dancing after.
A road like this takes lots of length.



written 4/16/2015
for Bio of a Poet contest

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