The Prince Edward Island Poet Laureate

All I Want Is A Pony

All I want is a pony and to be
twelve again, and this time when my dad buys
me the pony that I want so badly
he’ll buy a pony that doesn’t bite, or if
the pony bites, this time my older
sister will have a pony too, and she
will love to ride and love
to help me teach
the pony not to bite, and this time I’ll
be brave enough instead of giving up
and crying, crying, crying
and this time, she and I will open gates
and canter, canter, canter
over fields and country lanes. This time
Dad won’t say he doesn’t have the time
for this – a whiny daughter he’d hoped
would manage better,
but he won’t sell
the pony, this time, and this time I will learn
to ride.

Absent

don’t dress me for the show
I’ll not attend
don’t paint my lips and cheeks
don’t cross my hands or
fluff my hair
wrap me in cotton and raw silk
to keep me whole but
don’t dress me for the show
I won’t attend

don’t send me flowers
I’ll not enjoy
nor sing my praises in sweet voice
I will not be beatified
within this place
because I’ve died
don’t send me flowers
I’ll not be there.

Pierre-Chiasson c’est quoi c’est quoi

Chanson composée et chantée par les élèves de 9e et 10e année de l‘école Pierre-Chiasson de Tignish Î.P.É

Pierre-Chiasson c’est quoi c’est quoi
C’est notre école française
C’est notre école française

Nos parents Acadiens
Citoyens Canadiens
Ont lutté très fort pour l’avoir
L’article 23 de la Charte leur en donne le droit

Pierre-Chiasson c’est quoi, c’est quoi
C’est 4 roulottes puis 6 roulottes puis 8 roulottes
Où 113 personnes l‘été bouillottent l’hiver grelottent

Nos parents Acadiens
Citoyens Canadiens
Continuent avec courage la lutte nécessaire
Pour enfin obtenir un centre scolaire communautaire

Pierre-Chiasson c’est quoi, c’est quoi
Les temps ont changé
On peut apprendre en français

Pierre-Chiasson c’est notre culture acadienne
Qui rime avec sa soeur la culture canadienne
Pour faire de nous des bilingues
Ce qui est bien mieux que des unilingues

Au bout de l‘Île-du-Prince-Édouard
Minuscule géante du savoir
De toi nous apprenons

Nous sommes fiers de t’avoir enfin
Notre avenir entre tes mains
En français nous progressons
En français, nous réussirons

Pierre-Chiasson C’est quoi, C’est quoi
C’est le chemin vers les études supérieures
C’est vivre en français vers une vie meilleure

Longue vie à toi Pierre-Chiasson
Ensemble notre destin est lié
Ensemble nous cheminerons
Longue vie à toi Pierre-Chiasson pour la postérité

Milton

I went for a walk on the water
On a sunny Sunday afternoon,
To see what the sea had to offer,
What was washed up upon her dunes.
Colorful sandblasted bits of glass,
Seashells and tangled driftwood forms,
Hiding up in the marram grass,
Was all I was looking for.

Where sea sings with sand,
I met an old man
Looking out on the water,
Worn pencil in hand,
Exacting demands
From the sun,
The sand and the sea.

The wordsmith wielded his head full
Of words to be bound to his will.
His chewed pencil writhed, as it raged
At each word and syllable.
Torn notepad the cure
For the tangle of words
Still in search of their perfect phrase.
Now he paused to make note.
His brow laughed, then he wrote
These lines upon the page.

“There is so much more to see
Than meets the eye,
By sandy shore beneath
His mackeral Sky.”

“What? Only four lines.” I cried.
Only four lines yes,
Though so much more implied.
Look beyond the horizon, above seas so vast,
Holding hourglass sands in his timeless grasp.”

Reflecting then on the lines he had wrought
I said, “So that’s why you write!”
“Oh no, “ he ho hummed, as his mind overthought,
“Just to sleep well
… late at night.”

Beginnings

Overhaul…
New face…
Am I bleeding yet?