Best Canoe Poems

Morning coffee drift
Disconnected from the shore
Solitary bliss...

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Paddling on a swirling river.
Her husband takes the right.
His wife uses her powerful left hand.
Oh, what a truly serene feeling.
Gently gliding over the rippling water,
As the moon mesmerises the sweet scene,
Stars twinkle in the vast, darkening sunset sky.

They paddle in a sing-song, singing off-key.
One, two,...

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Upon the placid pond
With nature, a strengthening bond
Of these moments, he is so fond
A man, a canoe, and a dream

Some tackle, a reel, and a pole
Equipped with a motor to troll
Searching the old fishing hole
A man, a canoe, and a dream

He waits for the largemouth...

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Early one Saturday morning,
In a warm July sky,
We walk up to Mary’s to set up our canoe to the river.
My friend and I would take our supplies to the crust,
And prepare for our adventure.
We would be pushed by the bigger boats,
As a way of giving...

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Feeling like Gary gnu                                         ...

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I left my voice, down by the water.
It will be safe.
At least there, any tarnishment of tone,
will slip invisibly into the simple rythmn of the earth.

I can't hear it.

I left my soul, standing quite cold and still.
From beneath the protective shadow of the dream tree,
it...

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Beneath the hanging branches 
of the weeping willow trees.

Along the winding river
so very hard to see.

On a lazy summer day
floats a tiny white canoe.

The water lapping at it's sides 
beats a soft tattoo.

Cradled in it's center
quite out of view.

Lays a small Indian boy
sound asleep named...

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I was paddling down on the lake in my canoe

Written By Dean Masciarelli

August 2, 2010 (12:30am)



I was paddling down on the lake in my canoe

Waiting for the early morning sunrise
and wishing 
that I could be right in front of you

So that we could both look...

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TRAVELS BY CANOE
wind blown
wilderness,
they sought to show-
divine disquiet, art
nouveau
 
exhibition-Canada's Group of Seven eg JEH MACDONALD'S 
Little Falls 
www.arthistoryarchive.com/arthistory/canadian...

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My soul is my canoe
sails me in a sea of verses
a poetic harbor is my destination......

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Young me took this to heart:
“Love many, 
Trust few,
And always paddle
your own canoe”

Now I paddle my canoe
In icy waters
Far from my youth
and my many lovers 
not one of whom 
I trusted....

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gliding through its ripples breaking the stillness
in harmony paddling with my ancestors 
serene other than a loon's call as witness
gaging the span of mountains by trimesters
a sunrise about to make its grand entrance
closing my eyes as to trade furs feels intense
ageless today there is no...

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Our riverbank launch at dawn
where dense forest chills the breeze,
where cottonwood leaves flutter like wings,
and weeping willow penumbras tease.

Glistening, rippling turquoise water churns.
Crystal swirling pools symphonic and aglow,
elliptic aluminum crafts coast over craggy stones, 
riverbed scattered rocks gleam clearly below.

Current River splits between sandbar silt.
Our...

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willows in symmetry 
ripples in crowfoot 
swan goes with the flow...

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Let me tell you a story
One day, near summer’s end
Martha and her husband
Went canoeing with a friend

Suddenly a log’s there!
And what can Martha do?
Then she’s in the water
She tipped from her canoe

The canoe was righted
But she’s still in the creek
“I cannot climb back in there!
Oh,...

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