Poet Laureate
New Westminster’s Poet Laureate acts as a literary ambassador for the City of New Westminster and the community; advocating for literacy and the literary arts and helping to raise the status of poetry, language and the arts in the everyday consciousness of New Westminster residents. The Poet Laureate also develops meaningful engagement opportunities that enrich the lives of residents and visitors to the City.
Poet Alan Hill was chosen in February 2017 as New Westminster’s fourth Poet Laureate. Mr. Hill is a resident of the Glenbrook North neighbourhood of New Westminster. He is co-manager of the Poetry New West reading series and has been a regular on the Vancouver reading circuit for over ten years. He has been published in North America and Europe in numerous print and online journals. Publishing highlights in Canada include having poetry included in Event, CV2, Canadian Literature, Vancouver Review, Antigonish Review, Sub-Terrain, Poetry is Dead, Quills and Cascadia Review. He has also published two collections of poetry, ‘The Upstairs Country’ (Silverbow 2012) and ‘The Broken Word’ (Silverbow 2013). In 2007 he featured in the ‘Rocksalt’ anthology (Mother Tongue), the first BC wide anthology of poetry for over thirty years. Alan immigrated to New Westminster from the UK after meeting, and being sponsored by, his Vietnamese-Canadian wife while working in Botswana.
Subscribe to Citypage Online or follow New Westminster Art Services on Twitter for opportunities to participate in projects involving the Poet Laureate.
CALL FOR CONTRIBUTIONS:
A Journey across New Westminster by Word: A Poetry of Place
Deadline: June 21, 2019 4:30pm
About
The New Westminster Poet Laureate Alan Hill in partnership with the City’s Arts Services Department is requesting submissions for a poetry anthology, A Journey across New Westminster by Word: A Poetry of Place.
This vibrant, multicultural and multi-dimensional poetry collection of “poetry postcards” will present a literary map of contemporary New Westminster. The intention of this collection is to highlight and explore physical location and its emotional and cultural significance specific to New Westminster residents.
A Poetry Postcard is a short written description of a person’s favorite place in the City. A literary snapshot that describes a location and why it is important to the writer and what it makes the writer, think, feel and experience.
Objectives
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Celebrate and showcase New Westminster’s diverse cultural identity and literary traditions.
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Highlight places in our community – specific geographical locations - that are important to the community and engender a sense of what it means to live here.
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Create a greater shared sense of community for all participants.
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Support a collaborative and thoughtful legacy project shepherded by the City’s Poet Laureate.
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Create a printed and bound anthology.
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Identifying and connecting up-and-coming literary talent to the wider literary community in New Westminster.
Submission Guidelines
A panel of jurors will be struck to help Mr. Hill in the selection of poems for the anthology. The panel will be looking for:
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Literary originality - imagery which stands out
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Poems that make or take reference from the City of New Westminster (specific locations, its people, communities, streets, businesses, natural environment, histories etc.)
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A variety of diverse viewpoints from around the City of New Westminster (Indigenous, brand new and long-time resident perspectives are all encouraged)
Submission Requirements
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Submissions only accepted via email as a word attachment (do not send work within body of an email)
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Please include your name, address, email address, phone number
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Email Subject Line: A Journey Across New Westminster By Word - Poetry Application
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Word limit is 300 words/per poem
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An image of the location being written about
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Please note: Maximum file size accepted by City of New Westminster email is 8MB
Deadline
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Friday, June 21, 2019 4:30pm. Late submissions will not be considered.
Selection Timeline
Participants are selected by impartial adjudicators on the basis of their submitted material. Applicants will be notified of their status as soon as adjudication is complete, approximately 4 weeks following the application deadline (Mid-July, 2019).
Please note: City of New Westminster staff and jury panel members are not eligible to apply.
Intellectual Property
Contact:
Please direct questions and email submissions to:
Arts Services, Cultural Services
Office of the CAO
T 604.527.4640
E museum@newwestcity.ca
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- To Our Indigenous VeteransRemembrance Day, New Westminster, 2019What does it mean to fight for a country that wants you gonethat sees you an as anachronism, throwback, embarrassment-at the very least, has no interest in your survivalwill not recognise your worth, unless it is the time to kill…unless it is a time when those that can hunt, know weaponrycan be utilised, are now needed?I do not know how to answer those questions…yet, 7000 indigenous people DID answer them…found a way to serve in World War One, Two, Koreaoften came home, disenfranchised, wanted by nobody, to povertyoff the reserve too long to keep their status, notwhite enough for veterans’ benefits.Each of those 7000 must have had their reasons to enlist, particularto their lives-…perhaps for a way in, a way out, tradition, pride, beliefin our common humanityor a pathway out of debt, or to see the world…perhaps a few had even come to find a compromisewith the many headed beast, the Empire that was killing them.I would like to think my grandfather, whofought for four years on the Sommein Belgium, France in Turkey, whojoined the trade union for a better world, wouldhave seen these indigenous men and womenas his brothers, his sisters, as his comradesAgain, I can’t answer that. I have nobody left that can tell me.Yet I know it is not too late;we are family, Canadians, there is no time left for secretsno more time for lies.Let us celebrate how we have worked, we can still worklet us remember all the sacrifices made,remember what we would have never had, who would not be here, iffascism has not been defeatedremember ALL of those that fought, how they must be honouredhow we must go forward together, beyond the gas, the guns and shellsinto our suburbia, our glittering city in its greatness-yes, all of us, together now.
It is Time
Canada Day, New Westminster 2019
Hold this fire in your hands, this day of us.
Let it burn, purify.
Let it clean the spaces where we live
the gaps between us, where we are real
that cannot be seen.
Let our anthem carry your breath
straighten your tongue,
temper it into a truer intent
unleash the words of what we have achieved
let them lose onto the air.
It is time to share,
this good fortune, who we are
It is time to be ourselves, become us,
reconciled, in reconciliation
with what we have done, what we can become.
It is time to show our love in what we have achieved,
celebrate what we have won
through our work, enterprise, good government
It is time now to admit, that it was more than that
that there are stains, shadows,
there is a darkness we must face
there are people that have not come with us,
that we left behind
the dead, living, that we must learn to remember
that are here now, in this our home and native land,
where we must be reconciled, in reconciliation
together.For What Is Within Us
City of New Westminster, May Day Gala, 2019To prod our dank, unwilling, thoughts into the sun
the tethered cattle of our passions into light
into air still smeared with Easters saints.
This dark interior mountain range of what we are
can finally begin to bud.
The vast and lonely shore of death denied once more.
Spring begins to linger like a restless teen
that is learning
to trace the contours of his fathers laugh
become his mothers calming hands
to wrestle off the carcass of the winter brute
pay homage to the bleak grey stones
the monuments of our people
dance under a trimming of stars
for a moment take the shadows of ourselves, the
doubts, the fears; slip out of them like skin.
The Undefeated
Remembrance Day, November 2018“The Battle of the Atlantic was not won by any Navy or any Air Force, it was won by the courage, fortitude and determination of the British and Allied Merchant Navy”
Rear Admiral Leonard W. Murray: Royal Canadian Navy.Incinerating oil
the Atlantic, Artic freeze, the few brief moments before the ship blew, rolled over.
If you were down below, you knew it, you had no chance.
A door that would not open, gangway blocked spelled death.
Most accepted that, it was the bargain you had made.
You knew there would still be terror, you would still burn, call for your mother
when the boilers burst, the water forced your mouth.It was 50/50 if your ship was hit. You knew it.
Sometimes, if you survived, got to the ocean alive, you were left.
Too dangerous for other ships to stop, rescue you, as if you were still human.
No blaze of glory, just a lonely, terrifying end.
There were no uniforms, no proper pay, the ships were often old
rusted hulks not fit for the job, converted great lake steamers
semi retired coast huggers.It was that we had family, community, a bond across continents
brothers, sisters, that knew the same farm, factory, history.
There were people, our people
that we would not let starve, become victims, prisoners of power sniffing little tyrants
of a self-appointed master race.We were one people then.
Our religions, ethnicities all pooled in strength to defeat a tyranny
welded, pressed with the same rivets, floated in the same kind of love
its broken fingered, imperial, imperfection:
Because our sailors died, served, sometimes partly survived
we are still one people. We are here, undefeated, ready.
Some Words for the Young
City of New Westminster, May Day Gala, 2018This is more than the dance; this is being alive.
In your life, there will be hard times, disappointments, yet
you will always have thisevery May for ever. Every time the sunlight comes again, that
life returns, the world is young once more.This is something that is ours, yours.
Nobody can take it
anymore than they can steal the fuse
that forces the flower through the fieldor they can pocket the heavy thatch of thickened blossom
or take the rain, invest it, live from the surplus labour of the clouds
claim light, air, as their own
or steal away how springtime hardens in your blood
coagulates your thoughts, pushes you out into the worldto be with others, friends, community, in the
parks and forests of tomorrow
in a ship less ocean, empty sky, with
the springtime that has laid its box of chocolates at your feet.
Poem Read for National Poetry Month Proclamation - March 2017
The King of Glenbrook North
First my parent’s garden
its Eden of children’s parties
filthy kneesperpetual summer ecosystem,
of sugared up boys
microclimate of budded hormones
punctured soccer balls.Then the garden I tended as a student.
Industrial grade carrots,
cannonball sized cabbages
between which my fiancé Michelle
posed
in her wedding dress, netted herself
in front of the unsteady flesh
of the neighbours fence-
her peasant’s hands, bony and white
from the lack of a ring
that even then, I knew, I
was to never acquire for her.Then this garden I have now- small
secret, suburbaneach corner
a continent overcrowded with trees
Laburnum Pine Magnolia
pockets of Spring light
that only I have seen-
uncharted silences in the raspberry canes:bordered by a pelt of rough cut lawn
shimmying itself shyly
towards the back of the housesquared up
to the edge of the known world.Poem Read at the May Day Gala - May 24th 2017
May Day- New Westminster
2017This Maypole, middle world axis
for the earth to turn
lighthouse inside us, hormonal summer vision
bringer of buds, idolatry, difference
for us to wrap ourselves, pull the ribbons tight
climb back in the box of who we are.Twist and turn, step around each other, avoid each other
each in our way, our role, individual, team
learning to be, to welcome it back
what is bigger than us, this god, or gods
law of nature. law of science
what it is we are, that we cannot know
maybe do not need to knowwhatever that it is that gives us everything
owes us nothing
life in its cruelty, beauty, indifference, magnificence.We watch our children dance
these ones that will replace us
each hand held to the next like a thirst in need of
water.
Breath in their joy, charge on it
in the knowledge that they understand, know a little now
of what we are, where we come fromthat whatever world they make
what we give them now will not be in vainthat in this dance
whichever way they run they will be back
meet in the middle, weaved, stitched, more complete.Poem Written for Canada Day- July 2017 Canada Day
New Westminster, 2017This City will not die.
The torn moon stitched tight
fire swept backwards into
the pocket of an Edwardian morning
river rooted around the sky into
a tree of smoke.Our forefathers could hate
left the hard stumps of the excluded
damned.They could also build
brought us the lung lines of our streets
the verdant foliage of the
collective head
schools, churches, temples, the
knife sharp shopping of our beingthe fields and factories of tomorrow
palaces of the nine to five
hard shipping of Pacific
bleached, bloodied in Panama sun
Atlantic saltour people
sprinting from the River edge
multiplying in grids.Own this history, what has been done
has yet to comeno barrel bombs or gas
take
the barbed wire from around the heart
then all that is left of us is love.The Hunger Winter
Dedicated to Gert Heijkoop – Consulate General Vancouver
Kingdom of the Netherlands.
A mad man under Berlin
tap danced on his pyramid of skullshis armies shifted, regiments paraded
peopled died -the old, children, the ill
those that the utopians, the pure, master race
had no function forwho were not the right height, weight, colour
religion, shirt size
who spoke the wrong language.People had to be murdered
for someone else’s fantasy of paradise.Isn’t that always the way?
All we had left to give, us Canadians, British
was our childrenEighteen, twenty years old’s.
Men then, who would be kids to us now.We sent them out with guns, tanks
food they swapped for flowers
friendshipwith bullets, their lives
that they bartered for a countryto give it back to those that owned it.
In the slice of bread, spread of butter
there is a meal we will always share
a life we built together, will keep on buildingNot heaven,
not the world of jumped up little fascists
with their answers, uniformed corpsesjust this acceptance of ourselves
honouring of who we want to be
hope we can be better in what we do
how we include, value, honourThere are some
that would simply call this love.Alan Hill – Poet Laureate, City of New Westminster, November 11th, 2017.
What Canada Means to Me
Explore and celebrate our multicultural city with New Westminster Poet Laureate Alan Hill. Discover the power of the written word as a way of sharing experiences and what being Canadian means to you. Realize a new poetic talent or develop skills you have. Find exciting new ways of telling and sharing your story, meet new friends and reconnect with people in your community. No previous writing experience is needed. This workshop series is part of the City of New Westminster's Canada 150 celebrations.
The Narrow Road to the Far West: Travelling New Westminster by Postcard
This collection of poems is my, very personal, tribute to some of the places that have meant most to me in my time living in New Westminster and my time, so far, as Poet Laureate. This book is an exploration of my own mental and geographical landscape, but I hope you will find poems here that resonate with your own lives. Like poets everywhere, I have dug in to explore the general in the very particular, the heaven in a wild flower, universe in grain if sand; or in this case pub or dollar store. As I am a parent of small children and you will notice in these poems a proliferation of parks, play areas and open spaces. Don’t hold that against me as there is a great deal here for all to enjoy. Keep your mind open, your sense of humour sharpened and follow me. Let me be your guide. Would you like me to come and read to your group, help you write your very own postcard poems about our City? Let me know! - , Poet Laureate of the City of New Westminster, April 2018.
Candice James
Candice James is a professional writer, poet, visual artist, musician, singer/songwriter, workshop facilitator and book reviewer. She completed her second three year term as Poet Laureate in June 2016 and was appointed Poet Laureate Emerita November 2016. She is board advisor to Royal City Literary Arts Society and director of the Pacific Festival of the Book. She is founder and past president of Royal City Literary Arts Society; past president of the Federation of British Columbia Writers; and past director of SpoCan. She is a full member of the League of Canadian Poets. She also is founder of: Poetry New Westminster; Poetry In The Park; Poetic Justice and Slam Central. She has been keynote speaker at Word On The Street, and Black Dot Roots Cultural Collective and has judged the Pat Lowther Memorial Award and Jessamy Stursberg Youth Poet Award for the League of Canadian Poets. She is the recipient of Vancouver Pandora’s Collective Citizenship Award and recipient of the Bernie Legge Artist/Cultural award.
Candice is author of thirteen books of poetry with five different publishers: A Split In The Water (Fiddlehead 1979); Inner Heart – A Journey (Silver Bow 2010); Bridges and Clouds (Silver Bow 2011); Midnight Embers – a Book of Sonnets (Libros Libertad 2012); Shorelines – a Book of Villanelles (Silver Bow 2013); Ekphrasticism – Painted Words (Silver Bow 2013); Purple Haze (Libros Libertad 2014) A Silence of Echoes (Silver Bow 2014); Merging Dimensions (Ekstasis Editions 2015); Short Shots (Silver Bow 2016) and Colours of India (Xpress Publisher, India 2016; The Water Poems (Ekstasis Editions 2017).
Candice has featured at many venues both civic and public and appeared on television and radio. She has presented workshops, mentored writers; written prefaces and reviews, published articles, and short stories. Her poetry has appeared in many international anthologies and her poems have been translated into Arabic, Italian, Bengali and Farsi. Her artwork has appeared in Duende at Goddard College of Fine Arts, Vermont, USA.
THE UNSUNG HEROES
(Commissioned for the Civic Dinner Feb 26, 2013)
© Candice James, Poet Laureate
Outside the New West courthouse
There stands a bronze statue;
Of a man bound by integrity,
Steadfast, strong and true.
In 1858 he came to shape our history,
A man of dedication,
Sir Matthew Baillie Begbie.
And just like this great gentleman
You’ve answered duty’s call
To serve in your community
For the greater good of all.
You give your time and effort
On advisory boards, committees.
You are the very heart and soul
Of our Royal City!
You’re the citizens’ advocates;
The guardians of progress;
The underlying spirit
Of our City’s success.
You create a better tomorrow,
Exercising conscience.
With service and commitment
You are making a difference.
Tonight we’re gathered here
To honour and to thank you
For your care and dedication;
And though there’ll be no statue
You are the grass roots soldiers
Filled with civic passion.
You are the unsung heroes
When all is said and done.
You are the very heart and soul
Of our Royal City!
THE FALLEN SOLDIERS
(Commissioned and read at Remembrance Day 2012)
© Candice James, Poet Laureate
Freedom bought at such a cost;
The fallen soldiers loved ones lost.
Distant and so far away,
On battlefields the soldiers lay;
What a grievous price to pay.
Words alone cannot portray
This debt we owe but can’t repay.
We honour the fallen soldiers today.
But for the grace of God
Go yours or mine
To fight freedom’s battles
On the front line.
But for the grace of God
Go you or I
With a broken heart
And tear filled eye.
To the sons and daughters
Who lost their lives…
We salute you.
Your legacy lives.
Your memory survives.
Freedom bought at such a cost;
The fallen soldiers, loved ones lost.
We wear the blood red poppy,
Lest we forget.
THE YOUNG GIRLS OF MAY
(Commissioned poem © 2014 read at May Day Banquet)
© Candice James, Poet Laureate
The young girls of May
Pristine, beautiful and elegant;
Cheeks polished to a rosy shine,
Eyes sparkling like fine wine,
Are shining
In this, their moment in the sun.
The warm caress of history
Casts its spell of enchantment
Onto the May Day Ceremony
And the young girls of May,
Setting their hearts aglow.
The May Queen
And her Royal Suite
Hold court in the Royal City
Decorating the day
With windblown wishes
And perfumed dreams.
May Day arrives on little cat feet
And slides away on sleepy smiles.
It comes and goes in a heartbeat
But its echo remains forever
In the hearts and souls
Of the young girls of May.
MAY DAY MAGIC
(Commissioned for 2012 May Day Banquet)
© Candice James, Poet Laureate
Apple blossoms dress the trees
And kiss the morning dew
On this day of celebration
In the Royal City.
Today will shine in wisps of white
And sparkle bright with crowns
As our May Queen and entourage
Grace this day of joy.
The Maypole dancers ring the pole.
Music fills the air.
A feeling of camaraderie and people everywhere.
Queens Park shines and comes alive,
With pomp and ceremony on this special day,
To see our May Queen crowned.
The Royal Knights, a sight to see,
Tuxedos and dress vests;
These proud guards of chivalry
Stand by their lady’s side.
The May Queen and her Royal Suite,
True grace and elegance, decorate each May Day
In tiaras, gowns and crowns.
The Honorary Banquet,
A feast fit for a Queen;
The Mayor’s regal remarks,
The Royal Lancer Dance,
And as the celebration ends
The scent of apple blossoms;
The sparkle of spring dew;
The soft touch of a white glove;
A young girl’s magic smile.
The flavour of this day and night
Indelibly imprinted….
THESE BRAVE HEARTS
(Commissioned poem for Remembrance Day ceremonies 2011)
© Candice James, Poet Laureate
Courageously they marched forth into Hell
Amidst the gunfire, mortar shells, and death;
The brave hearts left there where their bodies fell
What name was on their lips at their last breath?
They have our admiration and respect
These architects of freedom; heroes all,
As teardrops fall old memories reflect
The brave young hearts that answered duty’s call.
They gave their lives to keep the hounds at bay,
These saviors still remembered through the years.
A somber day, this day, Remembrance Day;
A day of courage, sacrifice and tears.
To these brave hearts we owe an unpaid debt;
The blood red poppy worn, “Lest We Forget”.
A SPECIAL MAGIC
(Commissioned poem for 145th May Day Celebration 2016)
© Candice James, Poet Laureate
There’s a special feeling in the air
spilling over everywhere;
a vibrant mood that permeates
a history that resonates.
There’s a special magic to this day
we love to celebrate each May.
At the May Day Festival,
the Civic Dinner and the ball,
the Royal Suite, the May Day Queen
and Maypole Dancers set the scene.
These young girls and boys of May
are dressed up in such grand array;
handsome boys and girls so pretty
decorating our fair city.
Glory, pomp and history,
dancing, rhyme and melody;
a breath of fresh air every year,
eliciting a smile and tear.
There’s a special magic in this day
we love to celebrate each May.
THE DEBT
(Commissioned and read at the 2010 Remembrance Day Ceremonies
with the Duke of Westminster, the keynote speaker)
© Candice James, Poet Laureate
We wear the blood red poppy
Lest we forget.
Warfare, bombs, shrapnel, torn bodies,
Threat of foreign occupation,
Our flag raised, unfurled;
Sound of bugle and drum;
Our sons and daughters
Called to battle,
Fighting, in distant lands
To keep our true north strong and free.
Veterans and raw recruits
Fighting, laughing, crying, dying;
Side by side, adrift,
On a bloodied tide of bodies.
On Armistice Day
We remember
Those who stood tall
For freedom;
Freedom, bought with blood,
Sweat, death and tears;
An indelible debt
Impossible to repay.
We honour these heroes;
These architects of liberty;
These fallen saviors of freedom;
Today, tomorrow and forever.
We wear the blood red poppy
Lest we forget.
THE ANVIL CENTRE
(Commissioned poem read at the opening of Anvil Centre September 14, 2014)
© Candice James, Poet Laureate
In the heart of downtown
She stands proud and tall;
A community gathering place for all;
The Anvil Centre shaping and molding
Arts, drama, poetry, dreams unfolding.
A theatre, state of the art in all ways.
Recitals, performances, conferences, plays;
Artists, actors, writers, musicians
Dressing her halls with creative expressions.
Our City’s fingerprints nestled inside
Museums and Archives on history’s tide
The Anvil Centre…
Bold in her architectural face;
Truly a landmark to celebrate
The meeting of minds in a cultural zone;
The Anvil Centre – New Westminster milestone.
WAIT FOR ME DADDY
© 2014 ~ Read at Metal Sculpture Dedication at Hyack Square
© Candice James, Poet Laureate
In a heartbeat,
so near
yet so far,
the separation,
once impending,
becoming reality.
He’s going away.
The line of soldiers
march down the street
toward a foreign land.
‘Don’t go Daddy.
Wait for me Daddy.’
Too young to understand
the meaning of war,
he stretches out his tiny fingers
to grasp his Daddy’s hand;
to hold on tight;
to make him stay.
‘Don’t go Daddy.
Wait for me Daddy.’
In a heartbeat,
so near
yet so far ,
his Daddy fades from view…
He’s gone away.
THESE SPECIAL DAYS OF MAY
(Commissioned for May Day Banquet 2015)
© Candice James, Poet Laureate
May …
A special texture to the days;
A satin flow to the nights.
May …
Filled with warm gentle breezes
That wrap themselves around you
Like a gossamer blanket of dreams.
AND …
Sparkling inside this blanket of dreams,
Innocence coming of age,
Climbing out of childhood’s cradle.
Skipping through star-dusted minutes and hours,
The May Queen and her Royal Suite,
The Royal Knights and May Day dancers
Decorating a city tradition
again and again; again and again.
May Day in the Royal City,
So many memories:
Rehearsals, Speeches, Parades, Banquets.
Years become windblown pages,
Crowns handed down throughout the ages.
These special days of May
Ebb and flow,
On waves of enchantment,
In the everlasting sea
Of New Westminster history.
May Day in the Royal City;
A time honoured tradition.
May …
It never cease to be.
ARCHITECTS OF LIBERTY
(Commissioned poem Remembrance Day 2015)
© Candice James, Poet Laureate
They live on in our memory
Those architects of liberty,
Who travelled to a foreign land
To serve our country on command.
They set their boots on foreign shores
To fight for freedom by the scores.
The gunfire echoed overhead.
Men fell wounded; some fell dead.
Embattled soldiers in the Corp.
Will tell you.
War is hell…
And hell is war.
Reverberating through the years:
The emptiness and the tears;
The stain of anguish and bloodshed;
The silent bodies of the dead.
They gave their lives to keep us free,
Those architects of liberty.
We wear the blood red poppy...
Lest We Forget.
CANADIAN KALEIDOSCOPE
(Commissioned for Canada Day 2011)
© Candice James, Poet Laureate
Canada, the land of the strong and the free,
Is filled with lush beauty and bold pageantry.
The tree lined shores of the five Great Lakes;
The Yukon gold rush, the miner’s stakes;
The jagged rocks and harsh craggy shore
Of Newfoundland and Labrador;
New Brunswick’s famous magnetic hill;
Nova Scotia’s storms and Atlantic swill;
Prince Edward Island’s red soiled ground;
Quebec, where French accents still resound;
Ontario, the Canadian Parliament’s base;
Manitoba, the proud Cree and Metis race;
Saskatchewan nights painted with a soft kiss
And the true north’s Aurora Borealis;
Alberta, Lake Louse, Banff National Park,
Sparkling jewels, each a shining landmark;
British Columbia, Rocky Mountains high;
Waterfalls whisper as Eagles fly by.
Chilly nights in the Northwest Territories;
Wolves howl at the moon and whisper ghost stories.
This land is ours from sea to shining sea.
Each one of us is very fortunate to be
Residing in this great land of liberty
Helping to shape Canada’s history.
Peer through this Canadian Kaleidoscope
Stand strong, proud and tall with your heart full of hope
This brilliant creation splashed on nature’s page,
This glorious country is your heritage.
MOMENTS
(Commissioned poem for May Day Banquet © 2013)
© Candice James, Poet Laureate
Wishing, hoping, dreaming
Anticipation and emotion,
Excitement, nerves, anxiety
Time ripples by
In slow motion frames
Splashing into this moment
Suddenly the day arrives
May Day 2013 in the Royal City
Organdy dreams
And golden smiles
Sparkling eyes
And fluttering hearts
Young girls
Spun into young ladies
In the twinkling of an eye
How beautiful they look
In their flowing gowns of white
Their perfumed hopes and dreams
The May Queen, Her Royal Suite
And the Royal Knights
Infusing the atmosphere
With windblown wishes
And surreal sighs
This day and these moments
Will resonate forever
In your hearts and minds
And shine throughout the years
Star dust and diamonds
In a black satin sky….
Incredible, indelible moments!