Canadian Poem - THE COLD By Kenneth Sherman

In this countrythe cold drives people inside.
Their houses swallow them.
The furnace churns
and they sit in the warm bellyof the great house bear,
filled with a private odor.
When they venture outt hey wear hats or ear muffs and resemble ridiculous animals.
They flap their arms to keep warm like people-sized birds.
In summer they emerge but you can see the winter has not left them.
You see it in their faces, their movements,in the way they greet one another,
tentatively, as if there may not be another summer and winter will last and last
like a condition that is chronic.
But they don't walk to the clinic.T
hey accept it the way their ancestors once accepted God -without singing,
without celebrationand in August,
in the wilderness,they stare in amazementat the profusion of greenand accept the naked silence as a hymn.

First Assignment - What Canada Means to Me

Oh Canada
From sea to shining sea
I don’t know how I ever could
Express what you mean to me
Forests, mountains, golden fields
Your vast beautyIs quite unreal
My heart will always skip a beat
After having one of your delicious maple treats
Oh Canada
Our home and native land
I am proud to be Canadian

Response to Old and New Canadian Poetry

SolitudeArchibald LampmanHow still it is here in the woods. The trees Stand motionless, as if they did not dare To stir, lest it should break the spell. The air Hangs quiet as spaces in a marble frieze. Even this little brook, that runs at ease, Whispering and gurgling in its knotted bed, Seems but to deepen with its curling thread Of sound the shadowy sun-pierced silences.Sometimes a hawk screams or a woodpeckerStartles the stillness from its fixed moodWith his loud careless tap. Sometimes I hearThe dreamy white-throat from some far-off treePipe slowly on the listening solitudeHis five pure notes succeeding pensively.

The author of the poem, Archibald Lampman creates a very clear image of a beautiful and isolated place in nature. I personally think that this poem however is rather dull. It seems the author is simply stating things one would experience in a forest in fancy wording. This poem doesn’t really seem to have any important morals or an underlying message. The author also contradicts himself as he states that in the woods it is “still” and that “the air hangs quiet” yet later in the poem he describes many noises and activities that take place “a hawk screams”, there is a “loud careless tap” and the brook “gurgles”. I do however enjoy the author’s use of literary devices especially all of the personification. I think the author could improve the poem by making it more original, and meaningful with a message or idea that makes the reader think.

Response to Sensory Poem

Sensory PoemSun rising on the EastSnow Freezing both my feetThe Cold, a Raving BeastThe Sun, Tricky DeceitWild Geese shouting at meBare Trees Surrounding usIn the lake, Ice DebrisGeese Had a strange finesseThe cold bit through my faceAnd went right through myselfCaught inside Frost's embraceOne could not be himselfThe big frozen classroomReeks of Icy Perfume
Response to the sensory poem of Diego
I found this poem to be very interesting and unique from the other sensory poems I read. I liked how Diego’s poem incorporates a mixture of many literary devices including metaphors, personification, and overstatement. They really helped the reader get a vivid image of the scene Diego was describing. To me, it seems like there is a very harsh and rough tone to his poem in contrast to many of the other poems describing the scene as beautiful and peaceful. This is evident through your use of words and phrases such as “reeks”, “freezing”, and “bit through my face”. I truly enjoyed your poem and have little constructive criticism to offer you.

English Sensory Poem

Hi Mr. Bryce,

Here is the english sensory poem from our walk on the lake. Free verse with rhyme scheme AABB.

Peace, quiet, serenity
My senses almost overload from what is going on around me
The blazing sun shining ever so bright
The majestic Canadian geese in the midst of their flight
The air which fills my lungs is so cold fresh and sweet
It sends chills through my body from my head to my feet
Embracing the ground below me is a blanket of white
That twinkles and sparkles in the sunlight
The smell of conifer lingers in the air
From the trees around which are now so bare
Despite the cold it is only warmth that I feel
A moment suspended in time... so surreal