Post by Ting on Oct 18, 2005 17:37:30 GMT -5
Hi, I'm from Prince Edward Island, Canada, and this is a poem I wrote formy Island History Exam. It has historical data in it, so I'll give you a little bit extra to help you enjoy the poem further. Three things in this poem are:
The Mi'kmaq: an aboriginal group who were the first natives in the maritimes to come in contact with European explorers.
The Acadians: a french group of settlers that, when the British finally took control of Eastern Canada, where rounded up and exported back to France and to the USA. Two-thirds of the Acadians that were deported died of disease or starvation on ships while the British sold their homes and livestock to other European settlers.
Also their is a legend of a ghost ship that sails the Gulf of St. Lawrence (body of water under the south side of PEI). It is an old tall ship that appears to be in flames. Blurry pictures have been taken of this phenomenon.
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Ever
A young Mi’kmaq girl sits,
Watching the sun set on the water,
In its ethereal beauty.
She waits for her father,
Who is gone fishing, and her mother,
Out collecting berries.
The cool summer breeze sifts through her hair,
And beaded hide tunic as she watches,
The rippling water.
The red clay shifts beneath her feet,
As she stands, staring at the water,
For a ship has appeared on the horizon.
Brother, she calls, what is it?
He doesn’t know, but it doesn’t matter,
For nothing will ever be the same.
A young Acadian girl sits,
Watching the sun rise above the water,
And turn it gold and red.
She plays with her doll,
And watches her father plow the fields,
Her mother tending the baby.
A blue jay lands before her,
And she laughs,
Reaching for it.
The dew-damp grass squishes beneath her feet,
As she stands, staring at the water,
For a ship has appeared on the horizon.
Mama, she calls, an English ship!
Her mother knows, but it doesn’t matter,
For nothing will ever be the same.
I sit on a cliff, watching the water,
Clear blue in the afternoon sun,
And think of the ships of long ago.
I heard stories of a ghost ship,
Its flaming sails seen from far off,
A wrecked ship, perhaps, from long ago.
I wonder, though,
What if it isn’t a sunken ship,
As some may say?
But the ship a young girl saw,
Appearing on the horizon,
Telling her nothing would ever,
Be the same.
Ever.
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Thanks for reading, please review if you have any comments, or if you really like it (which I hope is everyone )
Natasha