[Inspired by the insipid Canadian poets of the 19th Century, except for Archibald Lampman; he's cool.]
O daisies! greet the skyey welkin high,
God's goldfish bowl so sunshiny and blue,
As polar bears might greet the glaciers, too,
As moose might greet the green of prancing rye;
Let posies of the prairies touch the sky,
Let springtime swarms of blackflies, caribou,
And salmon that would capsize my canoe
Redeem this heathen wildernessy sty.
O sullen Queen divine of Empire grand!
Ever shall we mine for Thee, and toil,
And chop down trees, and slice up beaver hide,
Exploit ourselves as markets will demand,
Extract our riches, make the rivers boil,
And in Thine endless wars, kill for Thy pride.
[Monday, September 18, 2017]