Poetry sharing among the Lake Cane community
Submit Your Own Poem Here
Win $50 if you're selected as our winner
February 2021 Poetry Submissions
By Suzanne S. Austin-Hill
Pastel hues of orange and yellow gently herald sunrise;
morning lifts its misty veil from water’s edge.
browns, blacks, whites
varying sizes and shapes
indigenous or immigrant
birds of a feather…
go their separate ways seeking delights that lie below the surface.
Heads and/or bodies submerge
surface somewhat satisfied
but one, unidentified caring heart
silently signals “There’s great eating over heeeere!”
their differences aside
they come together
to feed from the underwater abundance;
demonstrating there can be harmony among us.
By Michael Zahn
“Mermaids at night, sailors take fright.”
(Ancient adage that I just made up.)
Many a sailor has gone insane
upon spying the mermaids of Lake Cane.
After a night of too much beer,
these sailors claim that they can hear
the mermaids sing in tones divine:
“Do not fear, the water’s fine.”
In dead of night, in full moonlight,
the mermaids lure the sailors in
with flips of their tails and saucy grins.
As legend tells it, the sailors succumb
because they’re drunk (and also dumb).
Next morning, the sailors wake in their beds
with soaking wet clothes and huge throbbing heads.
Ask them what happened, you’ll only get groans
and pleas that you speak in much gentler tones.
The fable ends here, the moral is clear:
If, while drinking too much Yuengling,
you think that you hear mermaids singing,
and it sets your senses tingling,
let those feelings slide right past.
Ahoy! Avast! A midnight splash would be half-mast.
Batten your hatches! Put down all beers, including Pabst.
Don’t lose your head, set sail for bed,
‘cause the mermaids of Cane are creations to dread.
Our November 2020 Poetry Winner
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.