Axis & Allies - damowords

At Home with the Windsors
As morning blossom fluffles oer the grange
The Scottish Highlands caught the ocean breeze
Whipping in oʹer the hoary Wicklow range,
Catching the seaswans in their perfect ease;
Blending with snows,
Wylde winds of Helvellyn
Bear pair of mating crows toward the royal kin.
BANG! BANG! shot squawking from the sky,
For two partridges mistook,
The day was late, the kingʹs throat dry,
Gusty autumn fairly shook
The ailing trees, with trailing sigh
The Queen put down her book
To tenderly stand by her husbandʹs side,
ʺStill beautiful...ʺ he thought & blest his bride.
ʺGeorge, Iʹm glad those days are over,
After all that has been,ʺ
Stood together, angel daughter
Scampering cross the green,
ʺGlad Lizzie will inherit a free land when she is queen.ʺ
Balmoral
October
1945
War is Over
The Alps felt the first frost‐fall of the year,
A soft, white sheet to blanket all with snow,
Jean Francois look’d down from a higher tier
Upon the rooves of Briancon below;
With scarfless throat,
No spike, no pick, no rope,
Like some rough mountain goat he scamper’d down the slope.
By underwater mountain stream,
Sea‐crisp waters cool & clear,
Jean descended as if adream,
Startl’d herds of roving deer
Sent scattering by friendly beam
& as the inn grew near,
He thank’d his god, his land, his liberty
Cursing th’eternal name of the Nazi.
He stept into ‘Les Montemar,’
Where life lazed at a pace,
Walk’d to the bar, “Stella Artois…”
“Huit francs…” said with straight face,
“Huit francs! Huit francs pour un Artois, ah! c’est un grand
disgrace!”
France
December
1945