Spring Flowers of Manning Park 1997

Those early birds greeted me in a chorus of song,
Quite a fetching tribute to another early morning visitor,
I painted elsewhere but gathered and loved the selection,
Wildflower fields brimming with the wild geraniums,
Harebells,
And lupine,
Off in the distance,
Meadows shimmering with yellow buttercups,
I couldn't reach for the stream was fast moving,
The warmth of the sun would send those chills from winter back to that place unknown,
Now the butterflies and insects from their night time torpor,
Would begin to warm back to life,
On the perimeters of the meadows,
The wild deer would shyly graze,
On the sweet grasses and shepherd's purse,
And at the cabin,
My familiar glass vase made a sturdy home,
For that days harvest,
I almost worshipped and praised for their beauty,
And the painting; which soon followed.

Fruit and Veggie Station 1979

We unloaded the fixings to the kitchen tent,
Meat station waved over to the fruit and veggie ones,
The bugs paraded below the pretty wicker tables and sent,
Sweet wishes something would drop in fun,

Animals outside could smell the food,
Some squirrels would play with our minds,
The racoon would mosey on in always in a mood,
And look frightening with their dark gazes in search of a find,

Everything looked paintable one could say,
And so much to choose from but never a real labour,
That still life looked more alive today,
Accompanying the salmon and steaks with all its simple flavours,

That bay at Porteau Cove swarmed with more campers seeking fun,
Ants would line up expecting to be rewarded by someone,
Burners are all on and the cooking has just begun,
Caramelize and basting the fish and meats almost done,

While everything on this make shift party had taking place,
What hours of fun and everyones completely fed,
We will stay till the dusk shines no more light for us to trace,
This oil painting of fruit and veggie station all has been read.

Tranquility on Long Beach 1986

This open-air watercolour painting I did at Long Beach in Pacific Rim National Park is still memorable. After my long hike from one edge of the beach straight across the firm sand to nearly the other side. On exploring that area I came upon lots of sanddollars, starfish and even jelly fish; which unfortunately never made it through the last storm. One can collect shells and check out the tidal pools. For stranded fish and marine creatures, waiting for the next storm to release them back into the Pacific Ocean. The logs strewn about the higher grounds close to the forest, made a great place for me to paint and relax.

Boundary Bay Cannery X11 Revisited 1989

She sparkled after that tantalizing storm of hail,

I sat hunched but not broken,

But painted an homage to the form,

The beams and planks all sighed in relief,

Also the roof and sidings expelled the soaking back into the slough,

We all waited for and prepared once more,

For Expression,

Only the time will reveal the moment,

Her supports looked rattled but familiar,

Those waves still badger all but licked in a delicious rhythm,

And now the salty breeze returned to awaken back all who dared to remember.

The Water Colours of Ocean Storm 2000

We visited often this beautiful wreckage,
Perhaps the epitaph,
Of a life so once serene,
We would explore that desolate shore,
There was a feeling they belonged just to Neptune,
The sea god would display his hoard of the lost,

Ocean Storm would move sometimes towards the dunes,
Then play somedays with the waves,
Those tricksters lurked in form below our feet,
Could it be the crabs and starfish shifting her form mischievously,
Greasing the paveway with the kelp along the pebbles,

I wondered what form her wooden curves appeared like,
But only now her inners remain and lived on many of my canvases,

On that certain morning all was different,
Cumulus clouds were in the unsettling sky taunting the mortals below,
An eye glared to earth and enticed everything beneath,
That all is calm,
But in fact we were in amidst of the storm,

Ocean Storm no longer was there but returned back to her watery grave,
A sad reality but as it ought to have been,
The essence of her soul would now reclaim once more her beautiful lost form.