WoodNCanvas
LOVES Wooden Canoes
Just a few verses I thought I would share:
Easing the canoe from its resting place on the shore
Silently launching into the still water of a cool morning
The first stroke of the paddle gracefully slicing through the liquid surface
You and the canoe forming almost a ghostly figure
In the early morning mist rising above the rocks, trees and water
The sound of the water makes as it drips off the end of the paddle
Yet nearly all is complete quiet and silence
As stealth-like as an owl on wing you travel along the shore
The rhythm of the strokes as one with the rhythm of Mother Nature
You become one with your surroundings
As you glide across a watery wonderland
A beaver slaps its tail as a warning of your presence
The morning stillness is interrupted by the call of a loon as the day awakes
A red squirrel scolds you from an overhead pine branch
A moose munches on aquatic vegetative delicacies in a quiet secluded bay
The morning mist now long melted away in the glow of the sun
You easily send your canoe forward with each stroke
Now and then feathering your paddle to rest
And take in all that abounds along the lake
Peace and serenity, the exhilaration of being out on the water
But there is much going on along these shores
Turtles basking in the sunlight slide off a log as you approach
Slow paced almost statue like, a great blue heron stalks dinner (or is it lunch)
But still you lose track of time as you drift along
Forgetting cares and woes, finding strength in each paddle stroke
As you near the far shore’s portage, you feel fresh, ready to carry the canoe
Over the short yet rocky trail into the next small but distant lake
Perhaps even to a welcoming campsite under the pines
Settling down for the night under sparkling stars
Maybe even catching glimpse of a shooting star or the Northern Lights
The cedar and canvas canoe rolls up onto your shoulders
Not too much weight, a bit more than you remember from last year
Just enough to let you know you’re still alive
You double the carry over so you don’t overdo it
Or maybe it’s just to take more time to see where you’re at
As you rest by a waterfall beside the path, you reflect on the day….on what lies ahead
Still a few hours left before the sun sets….should be a full moon tonight
Maybe you’ll hear the howl of a wolf…. the echo of a loon from a nearby lake
You feel good….at ease….at home….and far from being alone
The canoe and you have journeyed far…and still have farther yet to go
For each trip takes you away from the daily grind
With each paddle stroke, there is definitely a greater peace of mind
So you pick up your pack, walking the last of the portage
Upon arrival, you launch the canoe onto the shining waters
You and the canoe dance on into the remaining daylight – Mike Ormsby
Easing the canoe from its resting place on the shore
Silently launching into the still water of a cool morning
The first stroke of the paddle gracefully slicing through the liquid surface
You and the canoe forming almost a ghostly figure
In the early morning mist rising above the rocks, trees and water
The sound of the water makes as it drips off the end of the paddle
Yet nearly all is complete quiet and silence
As stealth-like as an owl on wing you travel along the shore
The rhythm of the strokes as one with the rhythm of Mother Nature
You become one with your surroundings
As you glide across a watery wonderland
A beaver slaps its tail as a warning of your presence
The morning stillness is interrupted by the call of a loon as the day awakes
A red squirrel scolds you from an overhead pine branch
A moose munches on aquatic vegetative delicacies in a quiet secluded bay
The morning mist now long melted away in the glow of the sun
You easily send your canoe forward with each stroke
Now and then feathering your paddle to rest
And take in all that abounds along the lake
Peace and serenity, the exhilaration of being out on the water
But there is much going on along these shores
Turtles basking in the sunlight slide off a log as you approach
Slow paced almost statue like, a great blue heron stalks dinner (or is it lunch)
But still you lose track of time as you drift along
Forgetting cares and woes, finding strength in each paddle stroke
As you near the far shore’s portage, you feel fresh, ready to carry the canoe
Over the short yet rocky trail into the next small but distant lake
Perhaps even to a welcoming campsite under the pines
Settling down for the night under sparkling stars
Maybe even catching glimpse of a shooting star or the Northern Lights
The cedar and canvas canoe rolls up onto your shoulders
Not too much weight, a bit more than you remember from last year
Just enough to let you know you’re still alive
You double the carry over so you don’t overdo it
Or maybe it’s just to take more time to see where you’re at
As you rest by a waterfall beside the path, you reflect on the day….on what lies ahead
Still a few hours left before the sun sets….should be a full moon tonight
Maybe you’ll hear the howl of a wolf…. the echo of a loon from a nearby lake
You feel good….at ease….at home….and far from being alone
The canoe and you have journeyed far…and still have farther yet to go
For each trip takes you away from the daily grind
With each paddle stroke, there is definitely a greater peace of mind
So you pick up your pack, walking the last of the portage
Upon arrival, you launch the canoe onto the shining waters
You and the canoe dance on into the remaining daylight – Mike Ormsby
