Constrained Poem

Whispering winds whipped and whistled through the white, wild, wonderful tundra. Walter Wellington was waltzing through the white, snowy trail on his way to Wharlosburg. Walter was well on his way from the long journey from West Winsfield. Wharlosburg was about one-half mile away. Walter, whipped and weary but still wistful, was well-prepared for the windy, winding way. With him, as he waged through the white, twinkling path, Walter wore a worn winter cap, a white pair of workers’ gloves, a withstanding windbreaker, and weighty wash pants. As Walter waddled with weary wistfulness, whistling with the winds, he caught a whiff of the wondrous, world-renowned Wharlosburg waffles! Walter’d wager that within one weary half hour, Wharlosburg waffles would fill a warm, wholesome plate!