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Mad for Poetry

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad for life, mad for talking, mad for poetry.

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The War Song Of William The Conqueror. By A. H. Laidlaw

“By the splendor of God!” was a characteristic oath of William the Conqueror.     By the splendor of God! We come! We come!    To fight to the…

September 29, 2019
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The Union Oath. By A. H. Laidlaw

    By the Revolution’s dead,    By their Blood in battle shed,    By the Earth that drank their gore,    By the Heaven in which they soar,    By the Union Stripe and…

September 29, 2019
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The Three P’s. – The Pratie, The Pig And Poteen. By A. H. Laidlaw

    ‘Tis daily this baste    Will prosade to the fayste,    The best that Ould Oireland has seen;    The P’s are but three,    But they’re plenty for me, –     The Pratie, the…

September 29, 2019
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The Lily Land Of France. By A. H. Laidlaw

    With pensive memories    We part the Ocean foam,    To find ‘neath summer skies    A country and a home.    O lily land of France,    Farewell! Farewell, Paris! (Pa-ree)    Farewell to Life’s romance!    Welcome…

September 29, 2019
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The Light Of Your Beautiful Eyes. By A. H. Laidlaw

    As I stroll by the stream where you stray,    A beam is reflected afar,    Which seems, on the waters, a ray –     The ray from a luminous star.    What…

September 29, 2019
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The Good Ship “Ohio.” By A. H. Laidlaw

    Swift o’er the lee when the wind flies free,    Follows the ship “Ohio,”    With skies o’ercast she bends to the blast,    Like a billowy bird she can fly,…

September 29, 2019
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The Flag Of Brothers. By A. H. Laidlaw

    There is blood upon the Banner, the Banner of the Free,    There is blood upon our Banner, and it lies ‘twixt you and me,    And, like the blood of…

September 29, 2019
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The Dying Soldier To The Nightingale. By A. H. Laidlaw

    I plead with tears to thee,    Sweet warbler of the shade,    Breathe not such strains to me,    The sweetest ever made.    Who bade thee slight my woes?    Who taught to…

September 29, 2019
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The Custer Wail. By A. H. Laidlaw

    Dead! Where the bold and brave    Blend in one bloody grave;    Dead! With no coward clay    Weltering in gore that day.    Dead! Dead! Ah! – Dead to me.     Dead!…

September 29, 2019
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The British Gyp. By A. H. Laidlaw

    That luscious lip, the British Gyp,    I leave to rove, a reckless ranger,    To seek a life, with War for wife,    Defying Death, despising danger;    Yet while I speed…

September 29, 2019

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Mad For Poetry

Mad For Poetry

Poesia Poetry Journal! Have a Read.

  • Issue #1 – Mad for Poetry / Pazzi per la Poesia

Mad for Poetry

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