Poems

"If the track is tough and the hill is rough,
THINKING you can just ain't enough!" -Shel Silverstein

Hmm. The little engine that could, from another story, had courage and said over and over “I think I can I think I can!” And he made it up the hill. But he also had to put his words into action. I am determined to do that with my schoolwork. But you know those days, when you are in a dreamy child-like mood, and feel like walking through a forest in bare feet, sticking your toes in the ocean and breathing in the fresh salty air, climbing up a tree, and doing some watercolour painting? Well maybe that's just me... but it's one of those days for me. Yes, sometimes I'm still the twelve-year-old adventurous tree-hugger that I used to be. With Spring on the horizon, sunny weather, and little snow drops here and there I just get this overwhelming sense of loving life and God's creation. It pulls me away from my schoolwork, but at the same time, it helps me to stay focused, as it reminds me to thank God continually for all life's blessings. Learning is amazing (and this includes schoolwork, even though it is at times burdensome) and I will surely continue learning for the rest of my life. I think I'll share a couple of poems by Silverstein that my sister and I just loved when we were younger.

Where the Sidewalk Ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

Invention

I've done it, I've done it!

Guess what I've done!

Invented a light that plugs into the sun.

The sun is bright enough,

The bulb is strong enough,

But, oh, there's only one thing wrong...

The cord ain't long enough.

The Acrobats

I'll swing

By my ankles,

She'll cling

To your knees

As you hang

By your nose

From a high-up

Trapeze.

But just one thing, please,

As we float through the breeze-

Don't sneeze.

And here are two poems (out of quite a few) that I wrote when I was about twelve, for something different:

Shades of purple

The Artist paints,

Spiritual colour

Gentle but defined.

Last detail,

And the small

masterpiece is done.

The creation breathes

Its first breath

Puts off a sent

So glorious

And stunning.

The Creator moves on

To more important

Things but

Looks back-

Oh divine, oh lovely,

Oh sweet

Purple lilac.

--

The crest of the moon,

The shape of a c,

Shining down on Tofino

On a foggy night.

So many nocturnal

Creatures busy at work;

Scuttling, jumping,

Busy digging holes in the sand.

So few diurnal animals awake,

All mostly sleeping quietly

In their nests, burrows, and

Dense thickets.

The waves crash

Against the shore

Like a small, enjoyable

Thunderstorm.

Silently, a cougar waiting to pounce,

The sun slowly makes its way up,

Until it reaches the horizon

Giving a warm glow of satisfaction.

All of Tofino is brightened

With a new light of blue, red, and gold,

The stars quickly disappear,

And a new day has come.