A thought bubbles to the surface:
across my consciousness
forcing me to stir.
A bright red
In morning mist.
Our home and native land
A multicultural mosaic.
Within and without.
True patriot love in all thy sons
We do love you
With glowing hearts
We reach out.
North, south, east, west,
In worldwide community.
We see thee rise
And sometimes fall,
A country challenged.
In changing seasons.
The true north
Cold as ice
And twice as nice,
in summer than
Strong and free
As we wish.
From far and wide
We are unbound
by shining seas
or 50 states
in a melting pot.
A bright red
maple leaf waves
in blue skies.
We stand on guard
and lower it sometimes,
lest fear occupy
Too great a space
In our time.
For this earth.
god keep our land
Those within it.
And without it.
Safe, not sorry,
Glorious and free
and other isms that might
in prison us.
Be all we can be.
- O Canada – True North Strong & Free (terrycioni.net)
- FLASHBACK: Oh Canada, another birthday: This day in history – July 1, 1967 (sott.net)
- O Canada – Is it inclusive enough for you? (vancouversun.com)
- I drew a map of Canada (lostandfoundbooks.wordpress.com)
- Happy Birthday, Canada! (eemoxam.wordpress.com)
- 71 Reasons to Love Being Canadian Please
- O Canada: LOL rap version
- O Canada Live sung by Sarah McLachlan
Every Monday morning for the last eight weeks, eight to 10 of us gathered from nine to noon at the Bibliotheque North Hatley Library to write.
Expertly led Carolyn Rowell, who came to the workshops equipped with all kinds of interesting exercises, prompts, thoughts, and ideas to challenge us, we put pens to paper (or fingers to keyboard), then shared the fruits of our labour between ourselves.
I also shared some of my output here (e.g. The Lost and Found, See Me?, Life is Breathtaking, An Endless Prayer, Oh Mom!, Life Breaks My Heart and more in the “Writing”category in the drop down at the bottom left of the page if you’re on the site, if not then skiddadle on over there!)
This is part of an endless series of posts about my experience of Alzheimer’s disease. Some others are: I see you and me. And love. Loving Words at Sunset, Life Breaks My Heart, The Lost and Found, and See me?
An Endless Prayer
She has fat little fingers now.
Her precious rings don’t fit them anymore.
At night, she counts her rosary:
one bead after another after another after another.
In the day, she sits and strokes the tops of her legs:
up and down up and down up and down.
Her hands, the days and the nights:
soft, gentle tides going in and out in and out in and out on a desert island.
I wonder what she feels as she comforts herself and gazes,
mindless, into the near and far.
She turns to look at me.
“Hi Punkie, I’m so glad you came to see me,” she says.
My heart is in a million pieces.
I wrote this poem in this morning’s writing group. The prompt was “Five easy pieces,” a quick warm-up exercise in which we were asked to write five discrete sentences thus:
- describe someone’s hands
- say what they are doing
- add an exotic location
- ask the subject a question
- have them partially answer the question
Tweak if necessary when done and voila!