Peace

by Virgil Lee Adams

I’m on a boat on
Lake superior. I’ve
left all my troubles
on the Shores. They
seem so small till
they’re not even
recognizable. Riding
on the Open Waters
you can see the most
beautiful skyline.
Stress? No there’s none
when you think about
it. Watching the waves
with the wind blowing
on my face. I sit on the
deck just watching
the waters while the
waves beat the rocks
on the shores.
I have longed for the
peace I get when I
watch the waters.
Peace that can make
the average person
who has never known
peace go mad.
But me, I’ve known
this peace all my
life and I’ve wanted
it back for so long.
I often dream of being
on the shores of this
beautiful Lake with
my wonderful wife,
our feet in the water,
kicking and splashing
in the water. When
you want to relax
and have peace
of mind, just go
on the lake and
meditate.

Untitled

by Peggy Anderson

A dancing child, leaping like a goat
across Lake Superior’s rocky beach
pauses for one striking moment
to shoot his tooth-pocketed chewing
gum through the sunshine,
then pauses at the magnificent arch
which ends with a light click
as it melts with lapping waves,
stretching and assimilating
into the lake over time
like the boy sucking blood from a wound.
The cycle continues, and always will.
Over time, the gum will release
and lose itself combining
with the shifting waters,
on another slowly worn rock
at the bottom, as it is accepted.

A glimmering string of marble reflections,
stretching with aching and quiet need,
creeps down honey like tears,
toward the reflected
dirty child’s face.
In one moment
the string snaps
and busts ecstatic pearls
falling gently after coalescing
in mid-air, kerplunking
and into the trembling place.
The boy leaps back to his
parents full of emotion

Pasta for Poets
or is it Poets eating Pasta?

by Peggy Anderson

Sailing on the Vista Queen
is a poets dream eating cuisine

The lake had a golden gleam
with its beautiful sheen
Oh, what a dream
to be riding on the Queen

She left the dock; I could feel her rock;
I wondered if she had hit a lock

Next came eating salad and pasta,
with lots of seating and people greeting

Listening to children’s poems, made me think of little gnomes
Sister Naomi’s Ebonics added to the poems,

Cal states words must be concrete
for your sentences to be complete.
apply your menses,
use your five senses,
Tell Herb,
no linking verbs,
the first and last lines need to be superb.

This is what I learned on the Queen
amidst the water’s sheen while eating cuisine.

Park Point

by Peggy Anderson

Swimming
in desperate swirling waves acknowledge the lake’s scattered shorelines
Maneuvering
in the thunderous crashing waters that wash my aching body’s bathing places
Riding
the sun stricken waves that press against my sides forming a silhouette of
intensifying light
Hearing
the rippling surface jets throwing out their screaming voices of men, women,
and children
Watching
sprays of rainbow waves with their transparency hit the rocks but not
screaming with pain
Observing
whitish feathery seagulls move in their natural beauty savaging for bits and
pieces of life
Viewing
toy-like sailboats glide forward in uneven random order amidst the setting of
mounds of shrub on the shoreline
Hearing
dogs barking and going in the lake amongst the many wonders they have not
yet encountered
Smelling
the fresh air that paints a surreal landscape that it ponders life existence in
my mind
Inhaling
and exhaling the sunny view that speaks of freshness to me and others
Sniffing
the air that nature brings to its recipients at very peaceful moments in time
Sipping
from a previous water fountain that has strayed from its similar source
Energized
by the goodness that surrounds me as I lay quietly in the oven-baked sand
Warmed
by the sun on my body as I look at driftwood and rocks wondering about the
upcoming parchment of weather
Feeling
the warmth that my face is experiencing with its transparent truth and
nature’s beauty
Contemplating
and releasing my quiet image among the washed up opulence of summer
that is brought about by my request
Anticipating
my new of canvas life, what will it bring to my family and I
Will it be more warmth, more happiness, more time to myself as I lay
in the wet sand?

Superior

by Valerie Brooker

The lake has a clipped northern accent
Waves form syllables
Rushing glittering language
Deep thoughts of cold places

Evening

by Valerie Brooker

Sparkling metallic boats
Cruise the harbor
60's convertibles
Prowling this big lake

Lake Fragments

by Deborah Cooper

Look out across the water.
Take in the way the lake
takes in the sky
and gives it back.

Listen,
the familiar rhythmic pulse
that wakes the memory.
We come from water.

Night falls
Waves rock the broken moon.
Fish swim
among the stars.

Superior Spring

by Terry Falsani

Beneath Mesaba hill, the land
the lake the land again the sky
layer in shades of ash,
the way the blinds across my window
shave muted light in meager slices.
Even the evergreens have gone grey,
ghosting like druids into the mist.

Coming at last, a warm rain
rinses away our swath of dirty snow,
exposing earth like bandaged skin
bleached and bloodless.

In all this dulling undefined,
who would have thought I’d grieve
frost etched on the window,
the blue clarity of zero?

After Thirty-five Years

by Mara Hart

At first, it’s true, I was bewitched by you
You’re beautiful, but rough around the edges
You think you’re such a bigshot, always bragging:
“The biggest and the deepest and the cleanest.”

But now, a lot about you bothers me:
Communication’s always been a problem
You only groan and grunt, making hissing sounds
And, really, I can never count on you
One minute gentle, the next grey and sullen
And sometimes, downright mean: you’ve cut and bruised me
Your temper’s bad, your disposition’s cold
Yet still, you think you’re, well, Superior

My old boyfriend back East beguiles me still:
He’s smooth around the edges, fine and soft
He can be stormy too, but every night
He reaches out to me, wave after wave
His tears salty, as tears ought to be
He buoys me up when I am feeling low
Then rocks me as he gently cradles me
He’s my first love. I’m tempted to return.