Lake Cane Poetry Archives

Brought to you by our faithful members

Lake Cane is our cathedral.

Nov 9, 2020

By Michael Zahn

Lake Cane
is our cathedral.
The wild creatures
are our choir.
They sing of Cane
a sweet refrain.
They speak in tongues,
but this is what they surely say:
Fill this lake with love
for those below
and those above.
Let all enjoy
and play
and pray
and work unceasingly
day after day
to ensure
that Cane stays pure
so its allure
will endure.

Storms of Life

Nov 9, 2020

By Suzanne S. Austin-Hill

Seasonal contests wage between storm clouds and sunset…

Darkening shades of gray, hints of black sit heavy,

Pushing down forcibly upon the streaks and stripes of soft pinks, faint purples and
inevitable feisty oranges that mark day’s end…

But even clouds fully-laden with turbulent, uncharted waters of challenge and change,

Threatening the status-quo

Must surrender…

…to the colorful palate that resurrects itself as sunrise.

©2011 Suzanne S. Austin-Hill

Photo: Life’s Burdens
Ruskin, FL
October 1, 2020

Flow

Sep 11, 2020

By Samia Diouri

I want flow like water,
Find my path of least resistance,
Recognition of my reflection in others,
In the ripples of consciousness,
Know my soul is a drop in the ocean,
And my love is a river,
My wounds are but canyons etched over time,
I let go and resign to the rain filled valleys,
And surrender to the divine.

Be Free

Sep 10, 2020

By Andria Hoag

Toes in the water
Wild life teeming all around
Freedom awaits you

The Corona-cation Chronicles Day Thirty-six

Sep 8, 2020

By Suzanne S. Austin-Hill

There is calm in a rain
that keeps one still;
drizzle or deluge
off leaves drops spill.

And when the rain stops,
there’s calm there, too.
On a drip tip rests
a watery bijou.

My eyes are riveted
on this delicate balancing act;
calm in anticipation
of its longevity protract.

And just like that,
the droplet falls to the ground
where it does the most good
and in this my calm is most profound.

© June 2020 Suzanne S. Austin-Hill

MCES and Friends Poetry Contest

Jun 29, 2020

By Casandra Champion

Contrasting climates –
Minnesota, Florida
Two States One Love: Lakes

Southern Lakes

Jun 29, 2020

By Jennifer Kostrzewski

Southern lakes are great.
They’re warm, wet, and refreshing.
AHHHH! Alligators!

Let this lake . . .

Jun 22, 2020

By Michael Zahn

Let this lake
be lit with love
for the creatures below
and the creatures above.
Let this lake
be flush with fish,
fulfillment of
every angler’s wish.
Let this lake
be glassy smooth
so paddle boarders
can get their groove.
Let this lake
be gator-free,
(as much as any lake can be)
so swimmers
can kick in ecstacy.
Let this lake
be free of yuck
for those who
quietly skinny-dip
(or chunky-dunk).
Let this lake
be fertilized no more
so weeds don’t choke
and block the shore.
Let this lake
be bright as crystal,
with clarity deep,
not superficial.
Let this lake
please all its users,
including canoers,
kayakers and canoodlers.
In summary,
we surely all want Cane to be
a haven, clean, pristine, pollution-free.
We are Cane’s men, we are Cane’s women:
Let this be our sacred mission.

The Song Of The Chattahoochee

May 14, 2020

By Sydney Lanier (submitted by Tom Welch)

Out of the hills of Habersham,
Down the valleys of Hall,
I hurry amain to reach the plain,
Run the rapid and leap the fall,
Split at the rock and together again,
Accept my bed, or narrow or wide,
And flee from folly on every side
With a lover’s pain to attain the plain
Far from the hills of Habersham,
Far from the valleys of Hall.

All down the hills of Habersham,
All through the valleys of Hall,
The rushes cried ‘Abide, abide,’
The willful waterweeds held me thrall,
The laving laurel turned my tide,
The ferns and the fondling grass said ‘Stay,’
The dewberry dipped for to work delay,
And the little reeds sighed ‘Abide, abide,
Here in the hills of Habersham,
Here in the valleys of Hall.’

High o’er the hills of Habersham,
Veiling the valleys of Hall,
The hickory told me manifold
Fair tales of shade, the poplar tall
Wrought me her shadowy self to hold,
The chestnut, the oak, the walnut, the pine,
Overleaning, with flickering meaning and sign,
Said, ‘Pass not, so cold, these manifold
Deep shades of the hills of Habersham,
These glades in the valleys of Hall.’

And oft in the hills of Habersham,
And oft in the valleys of Hall,
The white quartz shone, and the smooth brook-stone
Did bar me of passage with friendly brawl,
And many a luminous jewel lone
— Crystals clear or a-cloud with mist,
Ruby, garnet and amethyst —
Made lures with the lights of streaming stone
In the clefts of the hills of Habersham,
In the beds of the valleys of Hall.

But oh, not the hills of Habersham,
And oh, not the valleys of Hall
Avail: I am fain for to water the plain.
Downward the voices of Duty call —
Downward, to toil and be mixed with the main,
The dry fields burn, and the mills are to turn,
And a myriad flowers mortally yearn,
And the lordly main from beyond the plain
Calls o’er the hills of Habersham,
Calls through the valleys of Hall