Me, spilling out all my thoughts, inner and outer, on just about anything! Lots of poetry, short stories from past experiences, anecdotes about teaching elementary school, music, relationships....garage sale type thing...Something For Everyone!

Friday, August 25, 2006

The Song My Paddle Sings (goes with post below this)


Johnson, E. Pauline
1999-01-01: Digitized from an item in the National Library of Canada collection. ~
Poem is in the public domain.. -

West wind, blow from your prairie nest
Blow from the mountains, blow from the west.
The sail is idle, the sailor too;
O! wind of the west, we wait for you.
Blow, blow!
I have wooed you so,
But never a favour you bestow.
You rock your cradle the hills between,
But scorn to notice my white lateen.
I stow the sail, unship the mast:
I wooed you long but my wooing's past;
My paddle will lull you into rest.
O! drowsy wind of the drowsy west,
Sleep, sleep,
By your mountain steep,
Or down where the prairie grasses sweep!
Now fold in slumber your laggard wings,
For soft is the song my paddle sings.
August is laughing across the sky,
Laughing while paddle, canoe and I,
Drift, drift,
Where the hills uplift
On either side of the current swift.
The river rolls in its rocky bed;
My paddle is plying its way ahead;
Dip, dip,
While the waters flip
In foam as over their breast we slip.
And oh, the river runs swifter now;
The eddies circle about my bow.
Swirl, swirl!
How the ripples curl
In many a dangerous pool awhirl!
And forward far the rapids roar,
Fretting their margin for evermore.
Dash, dash,
With a mighty crash,
They seethe, and boil, and bound, and splash.
Be strong, O paddle! be brave, canoe!
The reckless waves you must plunge into.
Reel, reel.
On your trembling keel,
But never a fear my craft will feel.
We've raced the rapid, we're far ahead!
The river slips through its silent bed.
Sway, sway,
As the bubbles spray
And fall in tinkling tunes away.
And up on the hills against the sky,
A fir tree rocking its lullaby,
Swings, swings,
Its emerald wings,
Swelling the song that my paddle sings.

This is one of my favourite poems and it is one that I know by heart. Of course, practically every kid in Canada had to learn that one in Grade School! My love of canoeing and my recent vacation in August makes this an appropriate one to share now.
Mother of Invention, singing the song my paddle sings!
More pics below this post.


Blogger Barbara said...

What a great poem. It would be even more impressive if recited while in a canoe on a river in Canada, methinks!

Friday, August 25, 2006

Blogger Mother of Invention said...

Barbara: My sister and I were trying to do that when we were out there! We only forgot a few lines..well, gr. 5 was awhile back!

Friday, August 25, 2006

Blogger Twist of Kate said...

Wow, you all had to learn that huh? Interesting. I don't know any poems by heart, but I will have to make that a goal for one day :) Hi from Michele's.

Friday, August 25, 2006

Blogger Mother of Invention said...

Twist of Kate: Yes we did learn many poems when in school. Memory work was big back then!
Thanks for the visit!

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Blogger Old Lady said...

But hark what light through yon window break...

Memorizing poems and then reciting them, even bits of Shakespeare, the Gettysburg address, the pre-amble to the Consititution.

Keep them coming!

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Blogger Mother of Invention said...

Old Lady: Out out, damn spot! (that'd make a great ad for spot remover don't you think?!!)
I used to love memory work and I still can recite many I learned. I loved all the seasonal poems...Hmmm...I'll post some when the leaves all are at their height of coulur!

Sunday, August 27, 2006

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I don't really understand the last line of the poem... Could you help me?

Wednesday, February 27, 2013


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