Alberta, Alberta

Alberta, Alberta

Let your blue skies sing

Let your praises ring!

With golden fields

And sunny days

A glorious summer haze!


Alberta, Alberta

Let your mountains soar

Let their grandeur roar!

With snowy peaks

And glassy lakes

For you my heart aches!


Alberta, Alberta

Let your wild rose bloom

Let it never meet it’s doom!

With wild, wild flowers

And blushing wild rose

Whom everybody knows!


Alberta, Alberta

Let your rivers rush

Let the land be lush!

With valleys low

And hills a-rolling

The very sight consoling!


Alberta, Alberta

Let your freedom roam

Let this place be home!

With emerald lakes, snowy plains

Golden fields and mountains high

Always under your blue sky!

Ah, what home means to us! The grandeur! The life!

Just kidding. In all honesty, this was a wee bit of a dare. Somebody asked me to write a pompous poem. ‘About anything?’ I asked? ‘Anything’. They said. ‘Just make it as fancy-pants as possible’.

So I sat down to write something. What could I write about? Top Hats? Will and Kate? William’s Nude Photos? Prancing Unicorns?

Unfortunately, none of those really came into play, though the Prancing Unicorn one got pretty far before I realized I sounded like a six year old girl who had just discovered a thesaurus.

What else is pompous? I thought? And suddenly, the American anthem played on the TV I had on in the background… (though, truth be told, NASCAR is hardly fancy and well-to-do.) Then I thought, of course! Write about home! Like a crazy, fancy, Alberta National Anthem type deal. And so, with great speed and pompusness I proceeded. And with a flourish, I finished said poem, then ran off and announced to the challenger; ‘Look at all this fancy pants, well to do, specialness! ‘Look at the fancy words and the ohs and excessive use of exclamation points!’

And so, my challenger read it. And looked back up at me in surprise.

‘Oh,’ they said. ‘I was hoping for a top hat wearing royal unicorn poem…that’s what you would usually write.’

I didn’t think of that…


Fly, Fly, Firefly

Fly, fly, you fireflies

Wrapped in your star disguise

As you flicker and glow

As wishes we throw

As kisses we blow

Fly, fly, you fireflies


Fly, fly, you fireflies

Dance in your rush

A twinkling hush

Get me to whisper and blush

In a night so lush

Fly, fly, you fireflies


Fly, fly, you fireflies

Light the sparkles in my eyes

Light the flame

Start the game

Whisper my name

Fly, fly you fireflies


Fly, fly, you fireflies

This heated night

Take your flight

This place alight

A glittering kite

Fly, fly, you fireflies


Fly, fly, you fireflies

In your star-lit disguise

Give me a final kiss

With nothing amiss

Leave me in bliss

Fly, fly, you fireflies


Do you ever have those moments that you forever remember? Like they’ve been etched into your head and your memory for forevermore, and just a word can bring back a time, a moment, that you can recall with such vividness that it hardly seems a memory?

I remember the first time I saw a firefly. Because, here in Alberta, they’re rare to see, especially cooped up in the city. We were on the beach in Manitoba, the beach fire blazing, the stars in the sky glowing, and the water lapping at the beach. It was a calm moment, coupled with laughter and smiles from the family. Then the fireflies came out…

And we chased them and danced and sang, running up and down the beach like madmen, but in such utter joy that I’m sure we could have lit a room. And when we calmed down, we sat on the logs ’round the fire, and tried to count them, mixing up stars with fireflies.  Listening to the crackle of the flames, the smell of the beach, the white sand, the glow. 

It’s a moment that I will forever remember. It’s a memory that I can’t forget. And I love that. At the same time, I also wish I could be that carefree again. To live out this summer like that night where we chased a million fireflies, and danced like nobody was watching. I want to make sure that this summer is one I remember. Where it becomes one of those memories. And I can’t wait.

Odd Place To See

What an odd place to be

Where suddenly I see

A place for you

A place for me

With the trees holding up the sky

Where we will never die


While you spin me in circles

A place of miracles

Like the sun that sets the fire

And burns its own desire

As it sinks into the night

Where everything is right


And we are young

And the summer has begun

Let the shadows play

Until another day

Where an odd place to be

Holds only you and me


Yes, it’s an odd place to be

With only you and me

This prairie daze

The twilight haze

Of a lovers field of dreams

Where we can plant our schemes


And watch them grow in stars

No matter where we are

As they sparkle

As they shine

As you whisper, as we twine

In this grassy place


And we are young

And the summer has begun

Let the shadows play

Until another day

Where an odd place to be

Holds only you and me


And I want the fire

I want desire

I want everything that comes with you

Here on this prairie blue

So give me your love now

And help to show me how


While we are young

And the summer has begun

Let the shadows play

Until another day

Where an odd place to be

Holds only you and me


Give me another kiss

Where it’s never felt like this

Let the stars dance

Let the moon prance

And I’ll see them in your eyes

A silver blue surprise


You are my perfect night

In my illuminated sight

Give me more, give me you

And don’t stop until we’re through

It’s a summer night

Where everything is finally right


We are young

And the summer has begun

Let the shadows play

Until another day

Where an odd place to be

Holds only you and me

So today was the last day of High School. The last day I’ll ever walk in to go to work. To do science labs. To wander the halls aimlessly. It’s a weird feeling, and doesn’t feelquite real. I also think that that is due to the fact that diploms are on their way, and we haven’t walked the stage yet. I mean, it’s still grey and rainy here, so how can summer and high school be over? Especially when I have all this studying to do? It’s weird.

However, this poem is to celebrate this day, and the summer that is right on our doorsteps. And I can’t wait for the adventures that it will bring. 🙂

The War, The Elf, The Great Ash Tree

Far, far away

A long time ago

When trees used to whisper

When trees used to sing

And when more than just deer

Once settled here


For before humans came

Across the shining sea

Other folk once lived here

Gentle as a sparrow, clever as a cat

It’s where our children played

In this gentle glade


Where the trees became our homes

And the leaves became our dwelling

Where peace and birdsong

The stars and sunlight

Twined ‘round us, a sacred cape

A sanctuary, a great escape


Until the day that they came

Across the shifting sea

Humans in their monstrous boats

With hunger in their eyes

Greed within their hearts

Something new within these parts


Where greed and lust did not exist

With its fiery kiss

Instead tranquility and temperance true

Brushed us with its wings

But with these humans, something changed

The moment words between us were exchanged


For we were different, easily seen

Our pointed ears, our flowing tongue

Their rounded ears, their harsh, harsh tongue

We had our beliefs in different things

Held our honor different ways

And we lived far longer days


So our cultures crashed

When they came upon our shores

And yet they had the daring nerve

To claim the land, to kill its creatures

Even when our ancestors

Had lived much longer than theirs


And so one day, our differences

Collided in a single meeting

A human man, an eleven male

Achan the Young and Raeus the Light-foot

Both unsheathed their fiery tongue

And dark daring words they flung


Which turned into a bloody night

For both humans and the elven

As Achan and Raeus turned to brutal duel

And late in the night, with Achan’s slaying

For no man could beat an elf

Our fragile peace so revered, it tumbled off the shelf


And a full out war was pledged

Between our folk and theirs

With their battle drums and gnashing gums

And our silvery stunning swords

Our war began, our war was launched

That once began, no blood was stanched


The elven folk fought for our former life

The whispering tress, the gentle life

And man fought for their pride and glory

With bloody words and hungry vows

To take what they thought was theirs

As we fought them for our cares


And through each battle

And through the blood

Our gentle life was shattered

Our gentle life was splintered

As war became our way of life

As our days were filled with strife


And we carried on for days and months

With neither side a winner

Until a woman, soft as dew-light

Marched to our brave leader

“Sigurad, this war must end

Why yet do we pretend?


“Why yet do we pretend

To fight for our land, our home

When it is shattered, and rendered bare?

Our trees are dying, the sky is crying

The rivers run with blood

And blood has mixed in mud?”


Siguard, the leader replied, much wearied

“Cienwen, fair one, do not mock me with your eyes

For within them you render much despise

I cannot end this war, though it’s wrecked our home

We fight for honor, we fight for family

We fight for all this agony”


Cienwen left then, disagreeing

The fight is prideful,

And pride is fleeting

Like a summer bird in autumn

It soon will go away

And if it does, what left is there to say?


‘Our homes destroyed

The braches broken

The numbers of dead are yet unspoken

Our way of life, our way of thinking

Destroyed now by this bitter war

All as a way to settle the score’


She stared out at the burning land

The battlefield, men’s fatal cries

The way the world looked through a bloody haze

Their world fueled by a revolted daze

And how men of both their races

Died on each other’s swords’ embraces


She watched as Siguard lead his troops

Out onto the battlefield

Where trumpets blared and soldiers roared

A torch to heat up their discord

Where people maimed and people died

All for this war based on pride


Back to her temporary home she walked

The shouts of children around her mocked

The tragedy of this part of our history

And when her uncle found her there

In his voice there was despair

“Come now, quickly, your brother, Faihr


He calls to you now, his wound is deep

There’s little time, Cienwen, before he’ll pass”

She stared at Uncle, uncomprehending

Her brother, wounded, about to die?

Her brother, twin, and young elf of Saeding

Fate was cruel, and she felt it’s sting


She hurried to his bedside there

Where roses bloomed upon his sheets

Bloomed of blood, and want, and war

Where young elves died, the price of pride

As together, they said their final goodbyes

As his heart made its final cries


And when he passed, a sorrowful wail

From those who mourned the loss of him

A bright young warrior, a handsome sight

A peaceful elf, a luminous light

And now I’ve lost him, now he’s gone

And yet the war around us, presses on


A war on pride, a war on greed

A war sown by a bitter seed

That our fair people had to fight

That turned our light forest, into night

And now Cienwen lost what she held dear

And everything became suddenly achingly clear


Well, she was prideful! Let them see!

Let them meet her at the great ash tree!

At its great branches, at its slender truck

There she would stop this fight, this blanket night

And she would make sure no more war

Ever came to their fair shore


And in her fury, Cienwen went

And there she sang in grief and mourning

To the greatest old grey ash tree

She sang of despair, she sang of love

She sang of the future, of the stars above

She sang about the mourning dove


She sang until she was nothing but the song

Until the world had done her no wrong

Until the elves began to come

To listen to her woeful hum

To listen to her sing her grief

To listen as she turned to leaf


And as she sang, and as she hummed

The air around her thrummed

As she grew into the great ash tree

Tangled with the leaves and bark

Becoming one with the tree itself

Turning to tree from gentle elf


And Cienwen sang until she was no more

Until she was tree, and nothing else

For she knew how to settle the score

And the elf’s fair beauty, the elf’s fair light

Came from within the tree, within the bark

Her limbs and branches in gentle arc


And we wondered why, we wondered how

As we keened our grief, for her and her brother

Why would she do what she had done just now?

Was it out of grief, or out of madness?

To follow her brother? To escape this life?

To take leave of all this strife?


But yet we honored her, with her choice

 Giving her transfiguration a voice

We told the others, we told Siguard

Told her uncle, told her aunt

And we mourned the loss of not one but both

Of Tyfwr Eiddew’s gentle growth


We mourned their beauty, their fierceness, their gifts

Fahir’s bravery, Cienwen’s peace

Both of their fervour for life and passion

And we laid Fahir near the great ash tree

Near where his sister had made her plea

And had turned herself within the solemn tree


And the war went on, the war continued

With more dying, more crying

More mourning our losses

Until the day the winds had shifted

Until the day the leaves grew still

And suddenly, the forest contained a thrill


A gentle singing, a gentle hum

Twirling leaves, and yet no breeze

A gentle foreboding, a saddened presence

Creaking trunks and no singing birds

Rippling roots, and shuddering trees

As the war began to freeze


For the elves and men alike

Grew frightened at the forest

Where the trees grew into traps

Branches held hostages

And the grass tangled limbs

And the men sung their hymns


The battle that raged, the flames that ravaged

All quickly were extinguished

For fear of the forest’s retaliation

For though none had died,

 Both humans and elves

Were afraid for kin and themselves


For neither race had seen such a disturbance

In such a calm, old forest

But Siguard knew

And with the idea flew

To go to speak and see

Cienwen in the great ash tree


And once there, he knelt in the grass

On bended knee before the tree

‘Cienwen, tell me, are you there?

Cienwen, beauty,

Do you live within this tree?

Cienwen, will you answer me?’


And he waited there, for a long while

Waiting for a sign, a voice, a whisper

And when there was none, he rose

Only to hear Cienwen’s gentle tones

Rise above the tumbling breeze

Sending him back to his knees


‘Siguard, I greet you

Yes, indeed I live

And the power I have within these limbs

Ought to frighten thee

Speak now to the great ash tree

For I am it, and it is me’


The elven leader trembled, the elven leader shivered

For the power Cienwen wielded,

Was far beyond what was known

A great and terrible beauty

And yet she still resided within the tree

How it could be, Siguard could not see


‘Siguard you have come to me,

If you wish now, speak to me

Let down your burdens, lighten the load

Tell me know what leaves your shoulders bowed

And if you so wish, if you desire

I’ll tell you what is truly dire’


Our leader hesitated, stunned by Cienwen’s power

Stunned by her pure intuition

Stunned by this great ash tree

That Cienwen wielded, as part of her

So with fear and awe in part

His side of the tale he began to start


‘Three days ago, and again, three nights

The Gwyrdd forest began to thrum

The birds didn’t’ sing, the wolves didn’t howl

And yet the forest breathed

Stirring the breeze and whispering threats

Giving all of us the sweats


“And yet we continued battle,

Each trying to win with blood

Each trying to ignore the strangeness,

The shifting in the Gwyrdd

Where plants crawled, their creepers gently streaming,

The plant life green and teeming”


He told of a forest writhing and alive

Who took both races into its depths

But yet kept both elf and man alive

Even when they could not be found

A warning, a signal, something more?

What did this forest abhor?


Cienwen and the tree sighed

When Siguard finished his tale

And with a whisper on the breeze

“Siguard, did I not tell you?

Did I not say?

This war on pride, this war on greed

This war sown by a bitter seed,


“It must end, it must stop

Or the Gwyrdd will start to kill

And you may hack down every tree there forth –

But you will never succeed –

You must end this war, you must end this fight

Or you will feel the forest’s bite”


“Cienwen, why? Cienwen, when?

Why does the forest seek to kill?

For the need, or for the thrill?

Let me say, it is no thrill to kill?

Why make men suffer? Why make men die?

Why make poor people cry?”


The whisper was sharp

The sting like a whip

“Siguard, what must I say to make you see?
You couldn’t see it before, but see it now!

This war must stop!

The cost must drop!


“Your homes are destroyed

The braches broken

The numbers of dead are yet unspoken

Your way of life, your way of thinking

Destroyed now by this bitter war

All as a way to settle the score


“None are winning, all have lost!

All at too high of cost

I lost my brother, you’ve lost your sons

And now I have power, now I have skill

And when I say, the trees will kill

Not for the power, not for the thrill


“But to make you see, but to help you find

Look at the ground, saturated with blood

Places teeming with life, deserted

The burying ground full

And everybody grieving,

Wanting to be disbelieving”


Siguard started, feeling frightened

Of what Cienwen had implied

A forest that could attack?
A forest that could maim?
What would cause this madness?
What would cause this sadness?
This war they fought, for pride, for glory,

Was to keep their way of life, their home, their children

And make sure that no man would overstep their borders

So why would Gwyrdd fight against them?

Why would it threaten, why would it warn?

Why would it be so set to mourn?


Then it came to him, then he saw

What Cienwen had been saying all along

In mind’s eye, his youngest son

Embracing a sword’s cutting kiss

His eyes wide as he pulled it out in wonder

The embrace tearing him asunder


How Siguard had roared, and quickly slain

The man who had killed young Ieuen.

How he had kissed his son goodbye

And had heard his mother’s cry

The pain he had felt, the sting of sorrow

Had made him fight harder, on the morrow


And yet, and yet!

Multiplied by a hundred, a thousand

He began to feel the pain of what this war had caused

And with that, he let out a cry

“Cienwen, fair one, now I see

What you were trying to say to me


“We’ve lost many elves

We’ve lost many people

With our homes destroyed

Blood spilled

 And lives in tatters

It’s not truly this war that matters


“No, we must rebuild, make a truce,

Find our peace again

And remember this day

For this war shall end

This war shall finish

Before we diminish


“It will be long, it will be hard

But we will save lives instead

Of cutting each other down

No more murder, no more death

We shall believe in peace and no more war

And we all shall restore”


A contented sigh flew through the breeze

And Siguard finally took his leave

Finally understanding, finally aware

What he had brought his people through

And Cienwen, in the great ash tree

Knew Siguard could finally see


So, in the days and weeks to come

The elves and the men had their talks

And it was decided, to end the war

As none had won, and all had lost

Together they would rebuild

Both races finally fulfilled


And none forgot the great ash tree

None forgot fair Cienwen

And every year, when the trees blossom

And the jewelled birds sing their song

We honor her with our verses

And each of us converses


For she is old, and she is wise

With her weeping branches,

She has seen as much as any elf

And anytime you need an answer

Cienwen can calm, Cienwen can help

Without scorn, and without a yelp


For her beauty remains within her limbs

And all who see her do remember

What she did for elves and man

And how she controls the forest

A tree that was once an elf

An elf that fought herself


A young maiden who wanted to change

Who wanted peace, who wanted love

Who took the chance, who took the sacrifice

To fix what she believed broken

To who stopped a war

To who we adore


Okay. This one is long. And when I say long, it’s 2 566 words. This is the longest poem I have ever written, and I’m not even sure why it is so long. But, it’s a new experience. So, congrats if you got to the bottom of it, because it’s not my usual material.

So I’ll keep it short and sweet on this one. 

–          I’m not sure why this particular topic popped into my head, nor why I felt inclined to write a story about it. Though I have my suspicions on a week of having the flu and watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

I also admit to really enjoying a good fantasy novel ever once in a while, so who knows where I picked this up.

Other than that, I’m heading out to Toronto tonight to play in my last Nationals ever before I am done my club volleyball career. It will be really hard, both emotionally and physically. After all, we’ll have to fight for every point, every set, every game. And then…it’ll be done. And my days as a volleyball player will be over. 😦

And then, two days later, it’s grad. It’s moving really, really fast, and I can’t believe how fast this year has flown by.

But enough on that. Have  a good long weekend (if you live in Canada), and if not, then enjoy, and thanks for reading all of this! 😀

A Cowboy, a Dirt Road, a Sweet Romance

It’s a place in my heart

Where we were young and free

Where summer’s heat was part of me

And we had nowhere else to be

Where the world was far away

And our young love was here to stay


It’s where you and I

Once fell in love

Under that blue Alberta sky

In that old blue Ford that always died

Where our memories and the radio entwined

Where our fates began to twine


It’s  a dirt road sunset

Sitting on the hood of that truck

A little bit of whiskey

Doing something risky

Watching the sun’s fire

Ignite it’s own desire


Its cut-off jeans, a white tank top

Your flannel shirt ‘round my shoulders

With the fiery fields all aglow

Singing along to the radio

A little bit of rum and coke

A little bit of campfire smoke


It’s a whisper in my ear

Smell of your leather and my perfume

Mixed together, a sweet concoction

Cuts my breath, just like a toxin

Where the catch that’s in your voice

Is a calling, not a choice


It’s the trees that hold the sky

Casting shadows on your face

This forbidden meeting

With my heart beating

Your name, tattooed with every pound

That beats too loud, an audible sound


It’s the crickets singing

The moon’s fair light

Slippery shadows across your face

A vivid picture, I can’t erase

A coyote’s shrieking, weeping cry

The night we thought would never die


It’s a slow, slow dance

A cowboy, a dirt road, a sweet romance

Swaying to the music of the night

Giving in to you without a fight

To your strong arms, your hungry eyes

That even the night couldn’t disguise


It’s that lingering kiss

Your hand in my hair, tangled there

It’s the goodnight, goodbye

The sound of your sweet sigh

It’s how I remember those days

Out where the horses graze


Where it’s a place in my heart

Where we were young and free

Where summer’s heat was part of me

And we had nowhere else to be

Where the world was far away

And our young love was here to stay


We all want to fall in love; we all want that fire, that ice, that beauty that results in the knowledge that somebody truly and deeply cares about you. It’s all part of human nature to want it.

I know I seem to write an abundance of love poems, which could be considered strange for somebody not in a relationship, or who has never even been in a serious one. But, we always want what we can’t have, right? And, since the last time I checked, I am human, of course I want to find love. So, perhaps, I write love poems because I write of something I’ve only read about, and turn my want into daydreams…that turn into the poems here. Is that so wrong? Personally, I think not. After all, it saves me from doing something with a stranger; because I have lived my daydreams through these poems. And in that, I might be weird, but who knows? Do most authors not live in their stories at one point or another? Why should it be so different for anyone who writes poetry?

Anyways, with the school year almost at an end, I have to start really focusing on my school work, so don’t expect me to post every week…at this point, it may be once every two weeks. And, I’m going to be way worse in the summer. Me posting every week when I would rather be drinking up the rather rare warm temperatures in mild Calgary is more of a draw for me than anything else…not to mention it’s more of an inspiration that staring blankly at Microsoft word, trying to get what I want to say out on paper (err…the screen). My poems are so much better when they are not forced.

And with that note, adieu.



Beyond The Wintery Walls

When the wings

Of a black bird sings

A song of wonder

A song of hope

My heart flutters

Looking for wonders


Far beyond these kitchen walls

Something brighter calls

It tells of summer

It tells of spring

My eyes widen

And look to hide in


The call of the dance

Of summery days

A time of freedom

A time of heat

When I could live

And I could give


My heart to another

Someone new


And true

When I could dance

And sweet romance


With the man of summer’s hue

Sun kissed and smiling



There we would lie

Under a drunken sky


With the wine of summer’s dew

Drunk on sun

Drunk on you

Intoxicated hearts

Like stealing tarts


From the window pane

Where I’m the same

Dark kitchen walls

Dark peeling halls

Summer’s gone

It’s winter’s dawn


And love is gone

Where it once shone

Like summery sun

Like flowers sprung

And now, I’m alone

I’m winter’s own


– Another poem. This one is a little late; I’ve been super sick. Think bronchial infection mixed with ear infection mixed with the flu from last week. So while I meant to post this right after the quote, I, unfortunately, could barley muster the energy to go to school, and then to volleyball practice, where I could barley move. Excuses, I know. Oops.

Anyways, this poem. A little different, and I’m not quite sure where in the world it came from. I’m thinking is stems from my and my best friend’s talk about guys, love, summer, winter, fall. And it all kinda fell into my head in the format you see above. 

How many movies in one’s lifetime, how many books, do we read and see about summer romances? Grease, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, Dear John, The Last Song, etc. But sometimes we don’t get to see what happens after the happy couple finally get together. What do they do? What happens if they break up? What happens if it doesn’t work out? Then what? That’s kind of how I read this poem, and kind of the story behind it. A young girl has a summer romance, that ends when the leaves begin to fall. But she really did like him, and now, she’s alone again in her home, that reflects, in  way, how her heart is – dark, and in need of a reno, so to speak.

One thing to note on this one, is that the girl in the poem is not me. I had a quick summer fling a year ago, when I was out of town, but it barley lasted long enough to get it off the ground, and I can hardly count it as a relationship. In fact, I was the one who broke it off fairly quickly. But that also make me think; was I too quick, too harsh? Was I only afraid to give it a chance? Is that why I’m afraid that I’ll be the one alone while all my friends get married? Then I remember, that I’m not the only person who wonders if they are going to be ‘forever alone’. Everybody is afraid, to some extent, that they will never find ‘the one’, or find somebody who loves them, flaws and all. It’s just harder when you feel like you are alone in feeling that way.

So, I’m waiting for love, and hoping, in a secret way, that I’ll find a summer romance…and be able to keep it longer than the summer heat. Because when that fades, there’s nothing left but cold. And I want someone to be there through the cold. Trivial, in it’s own way, but true.