poeme john martin

A Lake They Call Blue Sea

In the beauty and lure of the Lake of
Lakes nestled in the heart of the Gatineau
I dedicate this little poem.

I have seen the Rocky Mountains,
Nova Scotia’s rugged shore,
Columbia’s towering forests,
Heard Niagara’s mighty roar.
But high among the Gatineau Hills,
If you will come with me,
I’ll show you Nature’s masterpiece,
A lake they call Blue Sea.

‘Tis rimmed by purple mountains,
Green waters kiss its shore,
And up on high, in azure sky,
White Sea Gulls dip and soar.
I would that you, at eventide,

When twilight’s shadows fall,
Could stand and watch the sun go down,
A vivid golden ball.
And see the hills and waters,
In all their glorious hue,
Forget your cares and sorrows,
Alone just God and you.

And now today in reverie,
My heart goes out to this Blue Sea,
For 30 years has passed and more,
Since my first-born played by her shore.
My brow has felt time’s honoured hand,
Grandchildren’s feet now mark her sand.

So if I love this lake so fair,
With memories sweet, and beauty rare,
It’s just because each bending tree,
Throughout my life will call to me.

John E Martin
August 3, 1940