Best Tamarack Poems


Cause of My Smile

Cause of my smile

I stand here for many days alone
And enjoy the rays and the cool breeze that falls upon
But I become very sad seeing on
My brothers and sisters are being cut down around
By bombs and missiles by some odd and cruel men;

Just the day before a sister of mine
Was shot down by a monster Zion
He was scolded and his action was condemned
By a man of humanity whose good name is John
But for the other cases of rape and murder around the world
Humanity gone into bins
And to prevent the heinous crimes there is none;

In the wee hours Today came a smart girl
A young lady may be she is about twenty two or twenty three
Before I know anything she took nine pictures
By her Nippon camera with a smile and that too is for free;

Perhaps one day like my brothers and sisters, I will die
With smart bombs and tamarack missiles
But today I have enough reasons to be happy
And on my round face to have a big smile
As someone inside me has seen a tinge of my folded beauty.

Premium Member Tamarack

A forest soldier still armored in golden chain
guards the Canadian Shield from brooding vines and
                                                            horizons gray
In November's wind, it holds its yellow needles
             like comrades clasped in feeble arms of wood

This tree, an x-ray of late autumn's soul, glows
              with its ocher pins,
              deaf to bids of meddling snow.
Soft sounds, these falling fibres
               beating war drums
               'gainst an early winter foe

Protester at the gate of cold
      tamarack's ramshackle yellow
As shouts of autumn's glory 
                                         still




Poem composed 2020
Revised: February 1/2022

The Dungarvon Whooper

Deep within the forest span 
Where trees block out the sun, 
Where loggers chop the days away 
And work is never done; 
Where monster moose patrol the pines, 
And hawks soar through the sky, 
You'll never hear a worse sound than 
Dungarvon Whooper's cry. 

The winter snow lay deep and cold. 
It made the rabbits shiver. 
Long icicles hung from the trees 
Along Dungarvon River. 
A jolly camp cook fed the men 
The best fare in the county. 
He never let them go without 
The best of nature's bounty. 

He kept his fortune in a belt 
He strapped around his middle. 
He never ever took it off, 
Not even when he piddled. 
An Irish boss devised a plan, 
A lumberjack named Ryan, 
Who lured the cook into the woods 
For deer meat he'd be fryin'. 

The logging crew was working hard, 
Their saws and axes ringing. 
Dungarvon River swept along 
And muffled all their singing. 
They didn't hear the one lone shot 
That came from Ryan's rifle. 
They didn't see the young cook fall, 
His life not worth a trifle. 

For that split second, time stood still. 
Blue spruce and tamarack 
Ceased needled whispers up above 
The greedy maniac. 
Old Ryan took the money belt, 
And scraped away the snow. 
He hacked through forest's frozen earth 
To shallow grave below. 

Supposed to be a hunting trip, 
The thief returned alone. 
He told the men a tale so tall. 
A bear had crunched cook's bones. 
At once search parties were sent out 
But ne'er a trace was found, 
For it was snowing heavily 
And covered tracks and mound. 

At sundown, they all heard the screams 
Around the logging camp. 
They knew it was the missing cook 
Who blew out every lamp. 
They felt his breath upon their necks 
As every candle flickered. 
The only peace that they could find 
Was in their pints of liquor. 

The terrifying screeches seared 
Each night at suppertime. 
When Ryan disappeared one day, 
The loggers sensed a crime. 
They worked in fear till early spring, 
Their heads in fitful stupor. 
With bloodshot eyes and trembling hands 
They left Dungarvon's Whooper.
© Kim Mcadam  Create an image from this poem.


Coquihalla Holiday

Loaded up and gassed
Got a four-day pass
Ramblin' in the Rockies
...Coquihalla holiday

Crested o’er the pass
Hope the brakes’ll last
Needle Peak behind me
...Coquihalla holiday

Driver’s turnin’ pale
Down the Devil’s Tail
To Othello. It's a mother.
...Coquihalla holiday

Evening shadows fade
Running down grade
Almost got it made
...Coquihalla holiday

Morning shining in
Y’oughta see my grin
It’s heaven past eleven
...Coquihalla holiday

Appaloosa pony
A meadow in the morning 
Nickers at the flicker 
...Coquihalla holiday

Cabin In the pines
Think I’ll wet myself a line
Cakes and bacon fryin’
...Coquihalla holiday

Bonfire burning bright
Tamarack alight
Purple sunset fades
...Coquihalla holiday 

Okanagan moon
Listening to the loon 
Coyote start to croon
...Coquihalla holiday

Hockey on my radio 
Oilers putting on a show
Win it in a shout-out
...Coquihalla holiday

Kokanee on ice 
Cubans are my vice
“Dominos or dice?”
...Coquihalla holiday

Me and Lady Missy
Getting kind of pissy
Sipping on that whiskey
...Coquihalla holiday 

All that I can say,
A Canuck can have a day
Relaxin’ in the mountains
...Coquihalla holiday





https://globalnews.ca/tag/coquihalla/
© Ken Rone  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member A Noontime Outing

It's a glorious, beautiful noon
I wish were dressed in green;
spring is around the corner.
Hosanna! Lavenders will soon be
in bloom and smell so sweet!
I'm sitting here
on a weather-beaten bench 
watching birds hopping about,
tap dancing with their beaks. 
Strangers walk past me, left and right
Yonder, the afternoon sun
hovers above a tamarack tree 
being gently stirred by the zephyr. 
I just spotted an eagle
commanding the sky solo
Hope floats happily 
in clusters of alabaster clouds
It's powdered in faces, too
It makes my soul sing a song
with the cheerful birds
How beautiful is today?


*written outdoors in real time*
03/07/2021

Premium Member Time Change

As we fall back to standard
and no longer save daylight,
the mornings are brighter but 
dark comes so much sooner.
Stark maples bare against red carpet
leaving only golden oaks and tamarack 
to stand against the evergreens.
Let us seize this stolen hour
and together go undercover
to make a time to remember.


Them Out of Staters

All them foreigners that move here
they always tell me that they've come 
To search for open spaces
‘cause cities made ‘em feel so numb

They came out here to Montana
to a place where they could feel free
To bulldoze out the pristine streams
and chop down the Aspen trees

To tear away the lodge pole pine
ponderosas and tamarack
Dig away the mountain side
and cram their houses back to back

They flatten out the rolling hills
to build a shopping mall or two
Built all them buildings so damn tall
their blocking out the mountain view

They've taken all the wildflowers
and laid down asphalt and cement
Put solar panels on their roofs
'cause that’ll save the environment

Should a deer wander into town
they want the law to do the deed
Because having wild critters around
is something that they just don't need

They say that they feel better now
with all the beauty they can see
Just sitting in their sealed off rooms
watchin' nature shows on TV

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