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INSPIRED BY STORMS

  • novelsforyou
  • Feb 2, 2016
  • 1 min read

May have to press 'read more button' to see entire poem.

KING HENRY THE EIGHTH

Henry was a marauder

Striding out with speed and strength

Sweeping across moors and plains

Storming over seas and sands.

Energised, determined, invincible

With power feared by man and beast,

He terrified with his gutsy onslaught

His audacious race across the Isles.

Henry was a tyrant

Intimidating reluctant audiences

With his roaring battle cry.

Some shielded ears, some covered heads,

Some fled to escape his booming gusts.

Mortals shivered, trembled, froze

Sought shelter as his formidable force

Whipped up bitter brawls,

Savage strikes, lethal blows.

Always he galloped swiftly on

Through thickets, woods and forests

Conquering hills and valleys.

Stirring the flow of calm waters.

No longer flying high

Above his cowering subjects.

His turbulent era now ended.

He rests with infamous ancestors

Abigail, Eva, Desmond and Frank

Barney, Clodagh and Gertrude

All Monarchs of destruction,

Cruel sovereigns of the sky

(Henry was the eighth named storm

to hit the UK at the start of February, 2016)

 
 
 

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