Poem of the Week
I sit in the canoe, alone.
It gently rocks from
Side to side,
Nudged by the rivers flow.
The forest is quiet,
The heat intense.
On the opposite bank,
A large osprey and elegant
White heron perch together,
Searching the glittering water.
Above, a three toed sloth,
Grey, almost invisible,
Clings to a branch,
A pair of scarlet and blue macaws,
Splash neon colours,
Across the hazy sky.
I sit in my wooden canoe and watch,
For a while I find a place,
Become part of the forests essence.
For a while I fit, for a while.
Week 4: 'Truth' by Barrie Wade
Sticks and stones may break my bones,
but words can also hurt me.
Stones and sticks break only skin,
while words are ghosts that haunt me.
Slant and curved the word-swords fall
to pierce and stick and inside me.
Bats and bricks may ache through bones,
but words can mortify me.
Pain from words has left its scar
on mind and heart that’s tender.
Cuts and bruises now have healed;
it’s words that I remember.
Week 3: ‘The Rider’ by Naomi ShihabNye
A boy told me
if he roller-skated fast enough
his loneliness couldn’t catch up to him,
the best reason I ever heard
for trying to be a champion.
What I wonder tonight,
pedalling hard down King William Street
is if it translates to bicycles.
A victory! To leave your loneliness
panting behind you on some street corner
while you float free into a cloud of sudden azaleas,
pink petals that have never felt loneliness
no matter how slowly they fell.
Week 2: 'Prayer to Laughter' by John Agard.
giver of relaxed mouths
you who rule our belly with tickles
you who come when not called
you who can embarrass us at times
send us stitches in our sides
shake us till the water reaches our eyes
buckle our knees till we cannot stand
we whose faces are grim and shattered
we whose hearts are no longer hearty
O Laughter we beg you
crack us up
crack us up