Friday, May 23, 2008


In Alberta the weather is oft times strange, this past week we have had temperatures that would make Mexicans sweat, and then three days of rain, which ended with some more hot weather. It is this variation that makes many Albertans seem strange, for as the weather changes so do the people's attitudes, indeed during the big hot more fights break out, and more interesting occurrences take place than one might otherwise expect. However, it is the breezes we get that bring on the strangest behavioral changes, for men have been driven mad by the incessant wailing of the wind, or by the tattoos it beats in their ears. Many stories and poems have been caused by this phenomena, here is another for your perusal. I wrote it many years ago, and go figure I didn't remember to apply it, it is semi autobiographical.

The Thought

The sun it burns down
baking this prairie dry
there ain't a cloud in the sky
and the grass is brown

Cattle graze while I ride
ruminating on who knows what
till the grass is short cut
and our brains are all fried

Shore it is not a wonder
an idea into my head came
tis the idea that is to blame
sure I decided to wander

I took up my pack and left
went off to the mountains
saw hills, valleys, an' fountains
even found a hidden cleft

In the rivers there, gold I sought
fished for trout in the streams
never found what I hunger for it seems
but I seen the bounty GOD hath wrought

Then a thought came into my brain
I know a bit of how to fight
perchance it was the blight
but the damned thought became my main

I drifted down to a northern city
for to take a hand at plyin' my trade
and it was a mercenaries life I bade
learned about war, mores the pity

For a decade I done fought
ten years I done survived
and into strife have I dived
and learnt the lessons I was taught

I seen the dark, and the evil
I seen the worst of man
I was there when the bravest ran
a setting quite primeval

Never found what I was lookin' for
bin all over, seen the worst, and best
seen armies, like waves, swell and crest
seen the fury of Hell, and blood on the floor

I think that next time the light goes on
I'll ignore the damned idea till it's gone
'cause I wish I could go back and begin again
I was happier on the range, prayin' for rain.