Short Canoe Poems
Short Canoe Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Canoe by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Canoe by length and keyword.
Row, row and sing,
Rest, rest and listening.
We’ll listen to the lullaby of a siren’s voice.
We’ll hear the ambience
Of the night’s silence.
Walk, walk and talk,
Stand, stand and be proud.
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.
A collection of ‘Love is…’ Poetry - Canoe
Love is a Wow! Moment.
Love is only for the chosen.
Love is a Godsend.
I want a love which never ends.
(C)2026 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
One
Peaceful
Canoe ride
Early autumn
A time to refresh and rejuvenate
9/21/19
Image # 1 Chosen
Contest: Make It Five Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
(Checked with Howmanysyllables.com)
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
Charles lived in a castle
A castle with a moat
Charles had possession
Of a little wooden boat
When he had a day off
Which were far and few
His favourite pastime
Was paddling his own canoe
Around the castle moat
In his royal boat
In my dream I see my brother
canoeing down the rapids
the moon behind him
blazing a trail
his heart beating
to the rhythm of drums
and the roar of bubbling waters
native blood runs through his veins
AP: 2nd place 2025, Honorable Mention 2026
America, Is Our Canoe
By: Miracle man
November 5, 2020
This election was a contest to see who runs the swamp,
and we man a canoe filled with greatness and pomp.
Many falsehoods were uttered without remorse or shame,
if they sink our canoe, won’t we all drown the same?
The sun shimmers over the rippling river as if chasing the water spiders. Long grasses mixed with wild flowers weave back and forth along the banks. Turtles bathe on the exposed log jutting out from the water. A herring hides beneath a shady willow.
What a spectacular day to skim past such beauty in our new canoe!
" Canoe " picture this?
Tippy Canoe and Tyler too
Gray rabbit is on top with attitude, spots overdue
Red rhino steadies him as he leans
Balancing a blue ball, which is filled with beans
Rocket ship is kind of in the middle
played by a panda who is never second fiddle
they are all riding across the lake on a tan canoe
decorated by the busy gnomes from Timbuktu
P-addle your own canoe,
A-ugust nineteenth Saturday;
U-se your independence,
L-et your weakness fade away.
A-s you paddle your own canoe,
S-how the world that you can;
U-nder the wide blue sky,
N-ever ask help from any man.
C-rossing the running river
I-s your own breakthrough;
O-pen your mind to initiative,
N-ow paddle your own canoe.
I trace a path between the rocks, jagged cold and grey
that whip the waves into a froth; tea-like tannin stain
Is this a place that we can pass, safe, Or should we stay?
For rapids, falls, and tangled logs, have thwarted us along the way
We’ve pulled the ropes, despite no hope, down paths of constant change
And now we go on one last float, to salvage a tired day.
Light
reflects
Autumn's ink
on smooth waters:
an image stirred by a passing canoe.
An image stirred by a passing canoe
on smooth waters,
Autumn's ink
reflects
light.
Fall
dabbles
red pigment,
strewn all about:
as Autumn arrives and Summer departs.
As Autumn arrives and Summer departs:
strewn all about,
red pigment
dabbles
Fall.
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 one keeping time
river sun mountains clouds paddling paradigm
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
The umber canoe
floats. The long curly leaves
of a weeping willow
casts eel-shaped shadows.
The mocha river
swirls when the bass are caught,
they twist the nylon lines.
The clouds are heavy
monsterous shapes; shades
of violet, deep greys-
they change the summer sky
into rain. Winds push the canoe
towards the muddy edge.
Earth colors merge; the rain-
drops bombard and rise
with the waves, wood splits.
When in the cradle
or a boat that rocks
life's lessons are learned
at the school of hard knocks
where these things are taught
you didn't oughta
1., stand up in a canoe
when it's in the water
as you may pitch
overboard
go down
and nearly drown
&/or,
2., stand up in a hammock
slung between the trees
as you could fall
all out
but merely skin your knees
unless you land upon your head
and then you may end up dead
She had his bracelet on her arm,
his taste upon her lips,
he had a token of her love
upon his fingertips,
They parted at the crossing
of the creek where they first met,
her laughter,
floating feathers,
and he never will forget,
The way the thunderheads
became,
the running buffalo,
and followed close,the pouring rain,
he could not see her go.
If they should meet beyond the veil
of time and wasted pride,
he vowed that he would end his trail,
and stay there by her side.