I enjoy both reading and writing poetry.
I may even publish a book of poetry one day. For now, I will rotate certain poems that I have written on this page.
The wind blew my kind ashore, but the First Nations maples were here long before.
We are the settlers of settlements, the villagers of villages.
That is what we are.
Canada … a village of settlements; a nation.
Lower and Upper.
West and East.
North and South.
French and English.
Indigenous and immigrant.
Do not be mistaken, for we do not settle.
We do not bend to threats.
Our land is glorious and free.
You cannot scare away the villagers from our home and native land.
We will never settle.
We will never break.
These villagers are bred and bleed to stand on guard for thee.
To you from failing hands we will burn the torch brighter.
For we are the villagers and the settlers of the villages and the settlements of this great land called Canada.