In the vigil that I keep
with those who only seem to sleep
birds herald the arrival of the dawn
as Balthazar comes to Babylon.
Though still the shadows of the night
bestir the brightness of this light
I feel a tremor on my hands
along the boundary of these lands
of mystic forces following him
across the desert’s giant rim
to meet the city with the sun;
another day of life’s begun
that brings upon this caravan
the dream of hope within the man.
Beware! Beware! I have heard the cry
from off this wall that I occupy
of weary hearts on domes of ice
where runs the sacred river Alph;
whose golden strands filter down
to sunless seas where men are bound
in ancient caverns fathomless.
Drawn each to each by their loves embrace.
For now there enters something new,
a horizon lifting with the dew.
A minstrel on a dulcimer
plays his song into the air.
This instrument a rare device
floating above these caves of ice
to touch me with its magic thrice.
The voice a measure of the verse.
So shall I linger, wake or sleep
in the vigil that I keep.
March 2020
Source: The Author
I am a Canadian poet currently living in Chippawa. Over the years my poems have appeared in a number of anthologies and periodicals beginning with the anthology ‘Canadian Poets of 1969’.
The poem ‘On the Waterfront of Toronto’ earned the Monica Ladell Award 2012 for best poem presented by the Scarborough Arts Society.
I have participated in various poetry readings and venues held in Toronto, Scarborough, Welland, St. Catharines, Niagara-on-the-Lake, and Niagara Falls.
The Indian Heritage Council of Morristown, Tennessee, published a limited edition chapbook ‘The Pipe Maker and Other Poems’ in the millennial year 2000.
The Spirit of Niagara from the Pan American Exposition, 1901
As we all stand in awe of her beauty, her power and her blessings,
Her hair cascades ever downward draping over her shoulders just as it should so fluently over every obstacle in its path,
And her breath emanating from her soft lips in the brisk air rises so high above, disappearing into the clouds,
Her sloping breasts just visible beneath her loose blouse,
Upon her face a sense of peace, but in her eyes a rampant ferocity as the light flirts and dances with every perfect angle.
How does such beauty, serenity and chaos exist simultaneously?
She remains nameless to those who know better that this is a just a part of a bigger whole that requires no label, just appreciation, but to others she bears the title of Niagara Falls
Source: April Jones, 2019
So She Flows was originally an entry in the 2019 Niagara Falls Writer’s Festival Poetry Contest. The contest was cancelled.
April Jones is a real estate agent as well as being employed with a winery, which she feels allows for her to engage in two passions of hers, and wine is obviously something this region is well known for as well as by trade, which to her is creative and fascinating. Jones loves anything creative from reading to writing to visual art of most any media. She moved to Niagara three years prior with her three children from Toronto and fell in love with the region instantly, and she feels like her love affair with it has only deepened and will continue to. She is grateful to share her experience of a place almost indescribable to her.
Niagara Falls to me is home, but so much more than just home.
In my time here, I’ve come to adore it like the comfort of an old childhood blanket, yet with the wonder and enthusiasm of a new love at same time.
When I walk down Queen Street in my silent reverie, I relish in its quaintness and the beautiful architecture of new memories, mixed with memories past.
As I drink in the warm rays of the sun through my skin so present to the miraculousness of all this city has to offer, I recognize that everything here has a special sort of charm.
From the way the curb wraps upward on River Road to the gorgeous endearing character homes to the old bridge on Queen with it’s wonderous, wild overgrowth.
And nothing more awing than the immensity of the gorge with it’s swirling, playful, mesmerizing currents of every sort.
Therapy and serenity live here for me and from what I observe, many others.
Not to mention a timeless sense of community.
Imagine a place where anyone can sit at a beautifully crafted instrument and engage in their own masterful creation outdoors.
Where you can experience culinary delights of every taste and culture.
Ride or walk along one of the wonders of the world and sip wine so thoughtfully created by those dedicated to producing something enjoyed by so many from wine to icewine to jams and jellies.
Festivals and faces of every sort of interesting.
The future, full of any possibility, for me remains the present as in my mind there is an almost indescribable perfection in what is exists as now.
When I stand in my silent reverie overlooking the river while the water sparkles and dances to a natural silent melody, I know I am home, but not just home, somewhere that is so much more than just home to me and I believe so many more.
Source: April Jones, 2019
A Most Beautiful Space on Earth was originally an entry in the 2019 Niagara Falls Writer’s Festival Poetry Contest. The contest was cancelled.
April Jones is a real estate agent as well as being employed with a winery, which she feel allows for her to engage in two passions of hers, and wine is obviously something this region is well known for as well as by trade, which to her is creative and fascinating. Jones loves anything creative from reading to writing to visual art of most any media. She moved to Niagara three years prior with my three children from Toronto and fell in love with the region instantly, and she feels like her love affair with it has only deepened and will continue to. She is grateful to share her experience of a place almost indescribable to her.
My doctor ‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡(so official!) Told me
that I needed to ‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡slow ‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡down. “That you speak and walk so quickly is a symptom ‡‡‡‡‡of your anxiety. It feeds it.” ‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡And so ‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡I started ‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡to write
Source: The author, 2019
atlantic was born and raised in Niagara Falls, where he still resides. A selection of his work is available on Instagram
The Niagara River and Falls, showing the Schoellkopf Power Plant (left) and the Ontario Power Plant (at base of Horseshoe Falls). Image courtesy of Niagara Falls Public Library
How many ages did it thunder
This gathering of four inland seas,
Rushing onward to the ocean,
Through a maze of forest trees?
Three hundred years have come and gone
Since Hennepin recorded the scene,
“It was like an Alpine torrent” he wrote
How glorious it must have been.
In and along this winding river
History has been made,
Indians fighting for their country
White men for fame and trade.
The once great barrier now is harnessed,
To give home owners heat and light,
But in its primeval solitude
It was a wondrous sight.
Now there is no dense forest,
No bear, wolf or bounding deer,
But the meandering Niagara river,
Brings joy all through the year!
Source: RG 18, Women’s Literary Club of St. Catharines Fonds, 1892-1996, Brock University Archives, Brock University. [1978?]
Elsie Stevens was an active member of the Women’s Literary Club of St. Catharines for many years.
A note on the date: Stevens refers to 300 years “since Hennepin recorded the scene.” Hennepin was in Niagara in December, 1678.
