Canada poem:
By: Bronwyn Redfern

Canada oh Canada,
How I love the,
I’ve grown to love your wonderful seas,
The diversity in nature,
The fresh clean breeze,
The wonderful wildlife,
So easy to please.

In the midst of it all,
Experiencing it first hand,
The different seasons,
Winter, spring, summer, fall,
Throughout it all,
I have a ball,
Canada oh Canada,
How I love the!

Lakeshore
By: F. R. Scott

From: Events and Signals. Toronto: Ryerson Press, 1954.
Lakeshore

The lake is sharp along the shore
Trimming the bevelled edge of land
To level curves; the fretted sands
Go slanting down through liquid air
Till stones below shift here and there
Floating upon their broken sky
All netted by the prism wave
And rippled where the currents are.

I stare through windows at this cave
Where fish, like planes, slow-motioned, fly.
Poised in a still of gravity
The narrow minnow, flicking fin,
Hangs in a paler, ochre sun,
His doorways open everywhere.
And I am a tall frond that waves
Its head below its rooted feet
Seeking the light that draws it down
To forest floors beyond its reach
Vivid with gloom and eerie dreams.

The water's deepest colonnades
Contract the blood, and to this home
That stirs the dark amphibian
With me the naked swimmers come
Drawn to their prehistoric womb.
They too are liquid as they fall
Like tumbled water loosed above
Until they lie, diagonal,
Within the cool and sheltered grove
Stroked by the fingertips of love.

Silent, our sport is drowned in fact
Too virginal for speech or sound
And each is personal and laned
Along his private aqueduct.
Too soon the tether of the lungs
Is taut and straining, and we rise
Upon our undeveloped wings
Toward the prison of our ground
A secret anguish in our thighs
And mermaids in our memories.

This is our talent, to have grown
Upright in posture, false-erect,
A landed gentry, circumspect,
Tied to a horizontal soil
The floor and ceiling of the soul;
Striving, with cold and fishy care
To make an ocean of the air.
Sometimes, upon a crowded street,
I feel the sudden rain come down
And in the old, magnetic sound
I hear the opening of a gate
That loosens all the seven seas.
Watching the whole creation drown
I muse, alone, on Ararat.

My Response:

I thought this poem was good, but very confusing. I was not sure what it was about. It started off talking about the water’s edge then it started talking about ‘eerie dreams.’ F.R. Scott used a lot of different words when writing this poem and I found it just didn’t really flow. It was difficult for me to imagine any of the scenery he talked about. Although it was a different poem then I am used to I thought that through it all it was still interesting to read. It was interesting to me to see how the ‘Lakeshore’ is described by someone using a different perspective. It gave me some new perspective.

Response

A Different Side of the lake - Campbell Parsons
As the wind brushed my cold cheeks
And as the snow crunches by each step I take
I feel something different
The Canadian winter is incredible
I have walked there in the summer
But on these cold days the lake shore feels different
Although the winter looks calm the creatures of the forest are still near by
The rabbit’s foot steps are lying in the light powder on the beach.
I feel something different
The forest still feels warm to me
As I walk along the beach
I breathe in the fresh air
I feel the cold as the snowflakes fall upon my hair
I can only imagine the warmth of the hot chocolate
I will drink laterBut for now ill bask in natures great changes
I feel something differentI winter is such a different place
I could stay there forever

This poem was written by my friend Campbell,
I thought I was very insightfull and he used great use of words.
It flowed really well and was easy to follw. I felth like I was there and he really painted a picture for me to imagine. Campbell is very talented and I really enjoyed reading this poem.

This poem has a rhyme scheme of abba, cddc, cc.
It is called...


Perfect Serenity
By: Bronwyn Redfern

Standing here on my own,
I feel the warmth of the late suns glow,
The trees swaying from the winds blow,
The serenity giving me shivers through my bone.

As I look out over the lake,
I feel myself unwind,
For a moment I stand leaving everything behind,
Here I am finally catching a break,

Only for it to be over as I shake,
It’s time for me now to awake.

Sonnet---
14 lines
Specific rhyme scheme ABAB CDCD EFEF GG
Each line contains 10 syllables, of iambic pentameter= non-emphasized, emphasized repeat 5 times.

Ending Alone
By: Bronwyn Redfern

Sometimes I dream while I am wandering,
I dream of those who are not suffering,
I pace while I continue pondering,
Wondering where there’s someone comforting.

As I wait for a friendly face, I fear,
I shall be left to pass away alone.
Can no one spare the time to just be near?
I wish and dream, one day I shall be home.

As my time is now arriving, I wait,
Wondering what this new place will be like.
Though I am scared, I know this is my fate,
I can’t help but wonder when my time strikes,

The time in which my world shall become still,
I see it, the darkness, coming to kill.

Here is my next poem, it is called:

THE FOUR SEASONS AND MORE
Macy Siu


I like that smell,that earthy, damp, rainy smell
(with a wisp of skunk gas, and a hint of budding flowers)
that tells you spring is just around the corner.
I like the sound of basketballs bouncing on the driveway,
rollerblades and skateboards clanking down the pavement cracks,
little girls' gleeful screams and the boys' boisterous laughs
as they dance amongst sprinklersin the summer.
I like the waydried leaves dance,a whirlwind of fire waltzing
their way down from the canopy.
your foot crunches the ground,
as if it is a piece of crusty brown toast,
buttered with a layer of golden yellow margarine.
Jack-o-lanterns smile their devilish grins, vividly bright,
piercing the darkness of an autumn’s Halloween night.
I like the taste of snow flakes as they fall into your open mouth,
chicken noodle soup that warms an ailing flu-torn body,
roasted marshmallows from a makeshift campfire,
(the one inside the comforts of your home,
because winter has gripped the outside world).
But most of all,I like your hugs,
where I can stay buried in the warmth of your soul.
your words of comfort, that replenishes my dried up,
torn up, shriveled up well-being.
your gaze,your timid smile,
and those dimples that cease to pass from view.
I like life, do you?

Hi viewers!

My name is Bronwyn, in this blog I am going to be talking about what it means to be canadian and I will be sharing poems with you!
Here is my first poem, it is about beavers :)

Beaver, oh beaver
Slinking after dark
Chomping down those cherry trees
In West Potomac Park
Beaver, oh beaver
You do not stand a chance
Not when those rangers hunt you down
For messing up their plants. Beaver, oh beaver
You made one huge mistake
Your life was so much sweeter
In scenic Greenbelt Lake
It's true, you chopped some sweetgums down
And made a royal mess
Still, you were proof that our town Had real wilderness.
But no! You yearned for city lights
Publicity and fame
The nation's cherished cherry trees
Seemed a much bigger game
And so to Washington you went
Resolved to make your mark
By Jefferson's big monument
To chew on cherry bark.
And then the press went after you
With cameras and lights
While park police with K-9 dogs
Disrupted your quiet nights
Now that they nabbed you, fair and square
You will be relocated--
Just stay away from Greenbelt, where
You aren't appreciated!