Poppies To Remember 2011

How could anyone forget?

The falling never lived to know,

Many have lost one dear Soul,

Tyranny of power and cruelty never ends,

It is these wars which always send,

Soldiers' victorious and ever so brave,

Their spirits with us now;

As they are worshipped at those graves,

Another Remembrance Day of many solemn forms,

World Peace perhaps if they'd read a book of Psalms,

And now's the time of poppies dressed in red,

That we wear proud at our breasts,

For our many beloved dead.

Ever Seen the Faeries 2010?

Perhaps the gossips thought,
Captivating one another with loose lips,
Along those silent flower beds,
Tulips hold onto your secrets and dread,
Such impressive talk they wished,
These flowers with their magical hues,
Reds beaming and supple,
Creamy whites enveloping my dreams,
Nightfall please return to awaken the fliers,
It is their glow and wings mistaken,
To beautiful to capture and ever taken,
Secrets revealed once more,
Many times in that dark film before,
Below the muted landscape,
Sleep filled blossoms with meaningful shapes,
I adore your miniature forms,
Flutter about and before the dawn,
Those colorful shelters hold many dreams,
Its which ones imagining are too be deemed.
　

Happy Thanksgiving Day Everyone 2011!

We just got back from Florence Lake in the early afternoon. The lake is small and lovely and very close to Alouette Lake and this is a small oil on board. It's still wet and shows the leaves in pretty autumn colours extending over the cold gray waters of the lake.

Earlier this week the farms with their cranberry fields were flooded in the Fraser Valley and the harvest began for this Holiday. We decided this year not to make the cranberry sauce ourselves, it's just to much work and we bought it instead.

The turkeys big this year and what's not finished will make wonderful sandwiches. The other foods accompanying this Thanksgiving meal are almost all cooked and Happy Holidays to you all!

Heartsease 1983

Lands made too change,
Please but not my heartsease,
It is the soil which remains,
Belonging to no one,
That is the sign spring will play,
Heartsease such charm and plenty,
This wildflower of antiquity,
As well beauty among the beasts,
Fields and pastures when long ago grazed,
Cool brooding meadows once stood,
Forest hold onto your foot,
Purpled-blues and buttery dollops,
They have tasted your magic and frolic,
Sweet dainty petals of tiny heartsease,
The fallow grasses hold this precious flora,
As your flowers are too please,
Finding you again makes my heart at ease.
　
　
　

Flames Towards The Fireweeds 2011

Hazed filled horizon hold out your hand,
Please wake the sleepers yet no more,
Glory amongst those tainted sparse mountains,
They’ll rise back towards the lake shore,
Unbearable for the noise and crackling seekers,
The wolves protest with distant howls,
Fiery licks soar with silhouettes could take us,
Seems as though the banshees distant screams pronounced,
It has begun the red monsters glow behold,
We will fight back the tears and fear,
These are the Chilcotin nights foretold,
Sagebrushes and briers dry and parched,
Rains worried away and we breathe no more,
Lovely creatures once alive and well on our land,
Hide and take flight whilst stands too forest floor,
It is the meadows compromised by this bake,
Shy in their blush and reds will taint our dreams,
Only the flowers each tier fluttered in pretty ache,
Fireweeds hold back this colossus rage,
And we will all wait and wait and wait.
　
　
　

Their Honeysuckle Thirst 2010

Honeysuckle kissed the bees and made them fly,
Soft pinks so sweet and yet so shy,
Your petite flowers not just for show,
Springs finally come and please don’t go,
There twin-petal lobe fragrant vessels,
Each flourish enhanced too just so,
Your wild and if tamed who would deny,
We have walked these trails side by side,
A gracious moment that awakes this play,
Today soft treads tomorrow come away,
At last the first mighty honey worker bee,
Are your coordinates set so they’ll come to see?
Tell me by thought,"have you reached your hive,
And relayed the signals for that fly by?"
So now at last those soft yellowy suited flyers,
Workers visit collect pollen and such sweet nectar for we admire,
Their power plants fueled with each little kiss,
Golden nectar collected and stored;
Honeycombed juice swells they’ll never miss,
Their sated with a honeysuckled thirst,
Such sweet, sweet taste, for such harmony immersed.

Johnston Creek Park 1981

This is a watercolour painting I completed on our trip back from visiting friends in Osoyoos.
The waters of the creek and the trees of the fir, larch and spruce were completed with quite a lot of detail. I liked especially the way the branches would break up this composition into segments creating a stain glass effect.
It was a cool Indian Summer day in late September.
I loved the way the sunlight shone through the dense forest leaves high above Johnston Creek; which made the waters sparkle like many little jewels.