Sensory Poem

Sun rising on the East

Snow Freezing both my feet

The Cold, a Raving Beast

The Sun, Tricky Deceit

Wild Geese shouting at me

Bare Trees Surrounding us

In the lake, Ice Debris

Geese Had a strange finesse

The cold bit through my face

And went right through myself

Caught inside Frost's embrace

One could not be himself

The big frozen classroom

Reeks of Icy Perfume

Sonnet

He went to the woods and never came back

A good man he was, a loved one he had

A group of brave men tried searching his track

When they saw him, he was scantily clad

Crazy as a mad cow the doctors said

her love cried herself to sleep every night

it would have been better if he was dead

then she wouldnt be in that grievous rite

She could take it no more, it was too much

Still with the memory of a dead man

Waking up each morning craving his touch

Never forgetting how it all began

No one ever knew what made him go mad

But she would never forget all they had

Canadian Identity Poem

White rolling hills

covered with pristine snow

a never ending carpet

on top of everything i saw.

Plains which were once green

had now changed to white

and a freezing cold wind 

soared above.

Going into the woods

the winds were stopped

by the green and white collosi

guarding at the door.

Up on the mountain

the trees marked a path

going up the side

i heard the roar

An enourmous wave

came rolling down the side

and all the mighty trees

were easily taken down

After the disaster

one would see in awe

at the beauty and the silence

that reigned above the snow

Canadian Poem

Bliss Carman (1861-1929)

Low Tide on Grand Pré

              1The sun goes down, and over all

              2These barren reaches by the tide

              3Such unelusive glories fall,

              4I almost dream they yet will bide

              5Until the coming of the tide.

              6And yet I know that not for us,

              7By any ecstasy of dream,

              8He lingers to keep luminous

              9A little while the grievous stream,

            10Which frets, uncomforted of dream--

            11A grievous stream, that to and fro

            12Athrough the fields of Acadie

            13Goes wandering, as if to know

            14Why one beloved face should be

            15So long from home and Acadie.

            16Was it a year or lives ago

            17We took the grasses in our hands,

            18And caught the summer flying low

            19Over the waving meadow lands,

            20And held it there between our hands?

            21The while the river at our feet--

            22A drowsy inland meadow stream--

            23At set of sun the after-heat

            24Made running gold, and in the gleam

            25We freed our birch upon the stream.

            26There down along the elms at dusk

            27We lifted dripping blade to drift,

            28Through twilight scented fine like musk,

            29Where night and gloom awhile uplift,

            30Nor sunder soul and soul adrift.

            31And that we took into our hands

            32Spirit of life or subtler thing--

            33Breathed on us there, and loosed the bands

            34Of death, and taught us, whispering,

            35The secret of some wonder-thing.

            36Then all your face grew light, and seemed

            37To hold the shadow of the sun;

            38The evening faltered, and I deemed

            39That time was ripe, and years had done

            40Their wheeling underneath the sun.

            41So all desire and all regret,

            42And fear and memory, were naught;

            43One to remember or forget

            44The keen delight our hands had caught;

            45Morrow and yesterday were naught.

            46The night has fallen, and the tide . . .

            47Now and again comes drifting home,

            48Across these aching barrens wide,

            49A sigh like driven wind or foam:

            50In grief the flood is bursting home.