Spring is here, the robins say so! The sight of the first butterfly or bunnikin has always been an event worthy of note in the Peace Country, so we’re marking it with a poem from the Bard of the Peace, John Sweeney. Sweeney was a Waterhole resident years ago, and his words still strike a familiar note:
Springtime on the Peace
by John Sweeney
It is Springtime on the Peace, with its sunshine and song,
When its musical waters flow gently along;
With each ebb and each flow it is nearer its goal,
Where it mingles its waters with those of the Pole.
A robin is singing a song to its mate,
A bluebird is winging its way o’er the gate
Of my garden, where promise of flowers are in view,
I can see their green caps, that are now peeping through.
While over it all hangs the blue of the skies,
And a chinook caressingly over me sighs.
In this land of romance, where the Peace River flows,
Where the hillsides are painted with bluebell and rose.
McKenzie and Simpson, in days that are gone,
Once rode on its waters to voyagers’ song;
And down on the bend old Dunvegan’s asleep,
Where the spirits of old o’er its glories they weep.
Asleep at its post, where a hundred long years
Passed over its head, with its hopes and its fears;
What tales it could tell, when our country was young,
Of adventurous deeds, that are ever unsung.
And I sigh for those days, while a spirit of rest
Envelopes my soul in this gem of the west;
When my spirit goes out with the ebb of the tide
Please lay me to sleep by the Peace River side.