Poem Hunter
Blizzard Rugger
NH ( / London)

Blizzard Rugger

Many years ago,
At the old horse and hound resort,
The antichrist of patriotism,
They forced us out and down to the pitches,
Whilst the howling snow whipped,
Round there sadistic heads,
'Play Rugger' they called,
All wrapped up in there tweeds,
And long stocking aswell as trousers,
'Play Rugger, its barely snowing',
And yet the blizzard raged on.

User Rating: 4,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 2

Robert Frost

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

Comments (2)

What? Where's that English stiff upper lip and all that? Oh, well, if it snows fast enough just stop and put a pipe in your mouth and pretend top be a snowman
and why not? gets ther blood going heart pumping ready for anything then practice for hard times to come when victory eludes the brave heart a fine poem