Alone to the nursery crept I one night-
The fire rose and fell with a flickering light;
Outside the wind thundered and rattled the pane
And blew back the curtains, and mixed with the rain.
The stars were all hid by the blustering storm
But on the bright fender were socks white and warm;
A bottle of milk and a loaf of brown bread
With scissors and cotton and thimbles and thread
All lay on the table where nurse always knits
Looks over her glasses and patiently sits,
And here is the rocking-horse calm and sedate.
The king of the nursery ruling in state,
With high pronouncing hoofs and a questioning eye.
He sees me on tip-toe creep fearfully by.
And here is the drum and the sword in it’s sheath
The helmet and knapsack and, hidden beneath
A box of lead soldiers, still shiny and new
All heavy and weighed, strong, sturdy and true.
And here they all lie safely hidden away
All watchfully patient (they waited all day)
For the grimest of battles they ever have seen
The French and the English, the Red and the Green.
And here came the horses alt pulling one gun,
Quick, line up the men for the battle’s begun.
The General’s in front with his sword, straight and thin
(There are many more French, but the Red’s sure to win.)
(R S Ward)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, Light Poems, War & Peace Poems, Kings & Queens Poems, Fire Poems, Soldiers Poems, English Poems, Nurses Poems, Questioning PoemsBased on Keywords: fender, thimbles, knapsack, pronouncing, watchfully, rocking-horse