Faithfully returning to Chantry Isle-
Though just in deep reflection-I cross the lake
with a stowaway wickie who brightly smiles.
The boat , our lady, barely makes a wake.
We lean into the wind, drawing nearer
to Great Egrets crowning one weathered tree
on the sanctuary. So white the birds are,
as white as the limestone lighthouse. We
step onto a shore, approach the tower
and enter. Id forgotten how reverent
even lamps, companions to lonely hours,
bless those watchers for beacons are God-sent.
Later, a found feather is clasped like a quill,
its keeper whispers, See? There be angels!
*A wickie is a slang term for a lighthouse keeper as they were ever trimming lamp wicks.
FIRST, I REMOVED EVERY APOSTOPHE FROM MY BLOG. I got tired of fighting off killer question marks. I think this may be easier on the eye than a whole bunch of ?these?
About Chantry Island
A Chantry, also known as a chantry chapel, is a memorial or even a complete building dedicated to the memory of a person or family.
Chantry is a small island just off the shores of Southampton, Ontario with a meticulously restored lighthouse and tower, built of limestone. The Island is also a bird sanctuary, known for its Great Egrets. I long ago toured this gem of the Great Lakes and fell madly in love with its tranquility, but there was also great loneliness due to its isolation from the mainland.
This area of Lake Huron is my idea of Heaven, and we have vacationed there, often.
Once, I mentioned to an older woman if anyone had ever swum out to the Island. Her eyes widened and she beamed. So odd that I quizzed this particular woman. It turns out as a teen she was the best swimmer in the town. And she gave me the low down.
Apparently the very last keeper had a great affection for whisky. Hed go into town, overindulge and the town was so concerned hed fall into the lake and drown (the irony of this is not lost on me. How about you?) it had been this young girls job to help him (a drunk older man???) into his boat, row him back to the lighthouse and because he needed that boat, shed have to swim back to the mainland in the dark.
I almost fell over. Im telling you, I could write an entire book based around that story... If you have ever read my favourite novella, The Snow Goose, by Paul you would understand. This woman, almost 90, had me riveted. Sorry, lol, I digress. What happens when the person writing the BLOG goes off topic?
Gail is one of our soup angels who shines her light far and wide. She writes both romantic and faith-filled poems and her blogs offer hope and words of comfort. Those blogs are quiet spaces, so restorative for those suffering tribulations. Every time I visit a Gail blog, I come away feeling more optimistic and far less stressed.
Some time ago I gave Gail the nickname Lighthouse. I believe shed posted a gorgeous lighthouse blog and I thought, well, Dear Lady, YOU are the lighthouse.
Life has not been easy for Gail. I wont say more about this, other than I have found her strength and perseverance to be a source of inspiration.
About the Poem
The words are chosen carefully, for Gail. I tried, whenever I could to use words of faith (reflection, cross, reverent, bless, crowning, sanctuary )AND words that spoke of Gails character and spirit. Words like: Lady, brightly, companion, watcher, beacon, God-sent, Angels. I tried to choose words with connotations that Gail would enjoy... like Lady, a term used for the Holy Mother, or Lamp for its usage in the New Testament. I wanted to finish the sonnet strongly, with a clear message that Gail is both a writer and a believer. While others may warn to BEWARE: THERE BE DRAGONS, Gail would lift her chin, smile and say, FEAR NOT, LOVE, THERE BE ANGELS.
Though I usually resist ending a line with a pronoun... I prefer a strong verb or noun, I wanted to use we ... I wanted to hold that word for a moment, let it dangle... a reminder that this is an imaginative piece. The we is figurative and I am building my own reality where I can whisk friends to a place never seen, show enough that they feel that they are there with me... WE...
Feel free to pounce on Gail and love her to pieces.
Feel free to discuss this form, poetic devices, tone, voice, slant rhyme ... poetry!
And feel free to just say hi, share whatever is on your mind, go off topic, rant about the weather, your diet, but
first, please blow Gail a kiss, okay?
She really deserves one.
Thanks and if youve made it this far, youre probably ready for some of that whisky mentioned above... or.... <3 Maybe one of Gails lovely blogs.
Oh, here are even BETTER pictures