Charlene Long - these wilder shores

Continuing reading the poems of Pauline Johnson inspired me to create a new series based on her works

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Late cranes with heavy wing, and lazy flight	Of purpling airs they twirl and twist	The sail is idle, the sailor too	The winds screech down from the open west

O’er dappling sea and broad lagoon	And the dream hills lift their summits in a sweeping heavy crescent	As sinks the sun within that world of wine	There’s a spirit on the river, there’s a ghost upon the shore

Till the autumn came and vanished, till the season of the rain	On the shore the heat is shaking	And the lakes and rivers crustine	With a fringe of frost before her

All colour fades from round that far-off spire	I only saw it’s gleaming from uplifting	Hushed lie the sedges and the vapours creep