Wrought in woods from the land
Was grounded, I could not understand…
She once coasted along the forest shoreline
Solo in the innocent rusticity of this place
She was a slender beauty and had grace…
A tribute to craftsman’s sleek creation
Now painted a vivid blue, like the sky’s
Descent to darkness, she sailed no more…
But sat perched high on concrete blocks
Inside her core no wanderer paddled
But a riot of colorful field flowers spilled forth…
For she glided ‘or the lake no more
No watery grave for this blue beauty
She was painted like a tarty courtesan…
In deep marine blue, and she knew her duty
Serving as a tourist attraction
I invite your reaction…
Should the Blue Canoe be so confined?
Her liberty is what I mind
I'd rather see her ply the waters.
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