Friday, December 21, 2007

Rugged Colors

This Poem was published in
"The Sherbrooke Record"
on December 17th, 2007

No scarlet silk,
No green satin,
A Baby born
In the world’s sin.

No silver coins,
No golden ring,
No luxury
For this young King.

Rugged colors
Surround the King,
And lowly men,
With joy they sing.

For unto them
A Child is born,
A King to bear
The world’s scorn.

No royal green,
No purple hues,
No noble red,
No subtle blues

But still the King
Chose to come down
From streets of gold,
To paths of brown.

Ireland

There’s a gray sky over Ireland
Like usual
But over us, the only spot of blue
Walking through a cemetery
In the cool shadows of a 500 year old church
Dad’s motto: Always look around the corner
There it is
An intricately carved cross
Rising splendidly over the moss covered wall
Ivy crawling up towards the sun.
Shutters open and close
Then we turn back
And walk back through knee high grass and weeds
Maybe we’ll eat at a castle next
Thanks for an awesome trip, Dad!

This Moment

Staring at the ceiling
Watching memories of who I am,
Of who I was
‘Cause this moment’s almost gone now
There’s no stopping the music
And I can’t stop this heart from beating
Even the moment that seemed so endless
Is nothing but a memory of who I am,
Of who I was
‘Cause this moment’s almost gone now
There’s no stopping the music
And I can’t stop this heart from beating
But I can make this heartbeat count
So, Lord, take each memory of who I am,
Of who I was
Use me, use this moment
Keep your music playing
And keep this beating heart set on you
Use me, starting with this moment
Use each memory to form me into who I am,
Who I will be

I Wonder...

This Poem was published in
"The Sherbrooke Record"
on December 14th, 2007

I wonder…
Who am I?
I know who I am
But do you?
The picture you see
Is not all there is.

I wonder…
Who are you?
I know what I see
But do you?
The picture I see
Is not all there is.

I wonder…
Who are we?
I know who I am
I see who you are
But do you know me,
Do I know you,
Do I know me?
What I know
Is not what you see,
Is not all there is.

Father

This poem is for my father,
whom I love very much
and who teaches me new stuff every day


From the first time you saw my little pink face,
And heard my screeching wail,
You’ve been by my side,
Helping,
Teaching,
Correcting.

You held my hand
When I took my first step,
You listened closely
When I spoke my first word.

You had your camera ready
At my first ballet show,
You cheered the loudest
At my first baseball game.

Now when you see my zit covered face,
And even when I complain,
I know you’re still by my side,
Helping,
Teaching,
Correcting.

You still help me up
When I trip and fall,
And you’re there to listen
When I need to talk.

You still take your camera
To immortalize my special events,
And you still cheer the loudest
For my accomplishments.

I’m sure when you see my first child’s pink face,
And hear her screeching wail,
You’ll be there,
Helping,
Teaching,
Spoiling,
Just like a grandfather should.

I Am

I am a child
I am a daughter
I am a sister
I am a child

I am an artist
I am a thinker
I am a dreamer
I am an artist

I am a friend
I am a listener
I am a comforter
I am a friend

I am a stranger
I am an individual
I am a mystery
I am a stranger

Untitled for the Unknown

If you have picked this up,
It is not for you.
If you are reading this,
It is not for you.

This is for those who will not read it,
This is for those whose fingers
Will never touch these pages
And whose eyes will never see.

This is for the blind,
The deaf,
The dead,
The illiterate,
This is not for you.

This is for the lost,
The hungry,
The poor,
The sick,
This is not for you.

If you have picked this up,
It is not for you.
If you are reading this,
It is not for you.

How do You See Me

Father, how do you see me?
As a daughter
As a first child
And a new beginning.

Mother, how do you see me?
As a child
As someone to teach
And to learn from.

Sister, how do you see me?
As a friend
As a comforter
And someone to giggle with.

Brother, how do you see me?
As an accomplice
As a listener
To talk about your tough days.

Friend, how do you see me?
As a buddy
As someone crazy
And someone you can count on.

Teacher, how do you see me?
As a student
As one of the crowd
But with an individual character.

Stranger, how do you see me?
As a mystery
As someone new
And a new story to hear.

A Mother

A mother is
A comforter
When tears spill out.

A mother is
A listener
When words come slowly.

A mother is
A helper
When the load is heavy.

A mother is
A shoulder
When eyes are weary.

A mother is
A corrector
When a lesson must be learned.

A mother is
A caregiver
When illness is around.

A mother is
A protector
When the great big world is dangerous.

A mother is
A mother,
Always there
Loving, caring, helping, forgiving
From life’s first cry to final breath
A mother.

Sing for Me

Sing for me the song of the trees,
Hum the tune of the rustling leaves,
Drum the beat of the running sap,
Feel the rhythm of the dripping tap,
Crescendo through the rising limbs,
Then falling from the evergreen pins,
Whisper now a new ring’s birth,
Echo the old, falling to the earth,
Finish with a gentle breeze,
Sing for me the song of the trees.

Comment écrire

Comment écrire
Si je ne connais pas la langue?
Cette langue, comme l’eau
Coulante, fillante entre mes doigts
Et mes penssées, comme des milliers de petits poissons
Scintillantes et frémissantes
Sans que je puisse les attraper.

Comment écrire
Dans cette langue, comme les étoiles?
Si liontaine, si visible
Mais intouchable
Et mes idées qui s’enfuient
Dans les vents de cet univers interminant.

Comment écrire
Dans cette langue qui n’est que silence?
Mais qui dit tout
Dans un regard
Dans un sourire

Comment écrire
Dans cette langue d’une telle beautée?
Coulante, fillante, élégante
Intouchable, inateignable
Cette langue que je ne connais point…

A Drangon's Story

When dragons flew in the wind that blew
In the days when knights would ride,
And beast and man across the land
Would join wars side by side
T’was in those days when man would praise
His glorious, flying steed,
On a winter morn’ when the sun was warm
That a dragon was in need.

Now the dragon kind has a brilliant mind
With which none could compare,
But when in need all men should heed
Lest the dragon kind despair.
In the battle field with sword and shield
Men and dragons fought,
But a little one who had just begun,
Breathe fire, he could not

He was caught between a sword’s brilliant sheen
And a dragon’s frightful glare
His master lay not far away,
Eyes locked in an icy stare.
And all around fierce battle sounds
Filled the dragon’s ears
And in his pain he cried in vain
His small heart filled with fear.

As the sword was drawn all hope was gone
For this dragon’s final fight,
The shining tip of the sword was lit
With a blinding ray of light.
Then down it came with flawless aim
And sank into his flesh
No help had come for this dragon’s son
Who died this terrible death.

Then rose a sound so great it drowned
All other battle cries,
The dragons flew in a last adieu
As the men gaped at the skies.
And though knights tried, looking far and wide
For the dragons who were once friends
Not a single one under moon or sun
Was ever seen again.

She's Dancing

She’s dancing in a wind of gray,
She’s dancing with a smile on her face,
And a tear running down her cheek.

She’s dancing though the song has faded,
She’s dancing though she’s filled with pain,
And all around the world mourns.

She’s dancing in a rain of sorrow,
She’s dancing looking to tomorrow,
And the rain is running down her face.

She’s dancing in the hope she’s found,
She’s dancing on a barren ground,
But in her heart, the sun is shining.

Through New Eyes

Such a familiar place
But it looks so different,
So new, so enchanting
Through the eye of a camera.

Such a small thing
But it looks so huge,
So important, so majestic
Through the eye of a needle.

Such a familiar scene
But it looks so new,
So captivating, so special
Through the eyes of a child.

Such a normal tradition
But it looks so intriguing,
So inviting, so fresh
Through the eyes of a stranger.

Such a simple picture
But it seems so complex,
So intricate, so beautiful
Through the eyes of an artist.

The Places I Love

The cottage in the summer
Filled with laughter, joy and friendship.
Sitting by the lake
A cool breeze blowing my hair
Watching the sun rise
Over the crystal clear water.

The woods in the fall.
The trees dancing in the wind
Clothed in fine garments of gold.
Leaves crackling beneath my feet
Geese soaring above.

The fields in the winter,
Covered in a pure white blanket of snow.
The wind pulling in all directions
Tugging at the moon in the evening sky.

Home in the spring
With flowers budding in the garden,
awakening from a long winter sleep.
All of nature is silent
Even the wind holds its breath
For the new beginning.

The Rhyme

Once upon a time
There was a man who did like poetry
The only problem was
He didn’t know how to rhyme.

He’d write words down on paper
And they sounded, oh, so lovely
But then mixed up get they would
And his poems sounded like this:

“Why cannot write I
A poem that cry makes you
Or tell a friend want to
Or make you out loud laugh.”

So you see this man was sad
For in rhyming he was lacking
He didn’t know what to do
So he didn’t.

On Skis

Skiing
Freeing
Flying
Gliding
Landing
Standing
Skiing

Great Grandpa

This poem is dedicated to my great
Grandpa Gordon Buchanan. Happy 96th
birthday and happy New Year (2005)!


I appreciate you,
The stories you tell,
The things that you do,
I remember them well.

The wars that you saw,
The games that you played,
The times that you went,
And the ones when you stayed.

So many memories,
And so much to tell,
So here’s a small note,
Wishing you well.

Your journeys have been many,
And your troubles so few,
And with this New Year,
Comes hope and joy anew.

And so as you watch,
All the years that are gone,
Instead look ahead,
To the future new and strong.

May God bless you and guide you,
Through each trial and tear,
Through each joy and each laughter,
And with every New Year.

Red Roses

Softly falling on the beautiful oak
As young children and adults
Place rose after rose
With the softest red petals

Meeting unfamiliar kin
Shaking hands with a smile
And a tear in our eyes
Hoping time together will last for a while

Sweet sorrow fills the air
As we all gather round
Tears running down cheeks
As it is lowered in the ground

This isn’t goodbye
Only see you later
This wonderful man
Has gone to see his creator

I Love You Because

This poem is dedicated to my mom

I love you because
You read the stories I work so hard on,
You correct the same error over and over and over
And still say I’m smart,
You push me to do my best and understand that I’m not perfect,
You take time just to talk … and listen,
You taught me it’s ok to cry,
You taught me to laugh at and learn from my mistakes,
You pushed me to do things sometimes I didn’t want to do…
…And ended up liking.
You showed me how to apply God’s word to my daily life,
You showed me how to be Jesus’ hands and feet
But most of all
I love you because
You taught me what unconditional love is
By loving me
Unconditionally.

The Run

Inspired by Run, a book about Terry Fox by Eric Walters

He’s running,
But the gait is different.
There’s strange rhythm to his steps
As you watch
The rhythm is so mesmerizing
You can’t look away.

He’ll never tell you he’s a hero
But deep down
Everyone knows
He’s a hero
And he’s out to change the world.

Day after day,
Mile after mile,
Step after step,He’s out to change the world.

Creativity

When the sun sets
When the moon rises
The whole earth is full
Of God’s awesome surprises.

Standing on a mountain
With rain pelting around me
Climbing up a rock face
God’s wonder is all I see.

Up before the world
To see the morning sun
As God created this place
I know that He had fun.

Colors of the Sky

Wind swirling around me
Blue, pink, orange, green
A myriad of colors
Changing like the seasons
The wind blowing through me
Pulling me
In every direction
Outstretched arms
Trying to reach
The sky
Turning
Round and round and round
And round
Falling to the sky
Breathing in the colors
Lighting up the stars
Falling, falling, falling,
Falling
With the snow,
With the stars
Laughing as the world’s begun
Landing softly
Dancing with the colors of the sky