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        CALLING ME
Who or what is it that is that’s calling me?
A little part of me wants to wander free,
Off to some far lands, unknown places fair,
Just go off and linger a little while somewhere.

Then I look at all the beauty that is mine,
Our home and the little garden so fine,
Lake Ontario only a short walk away,
Then it’s here that I always want to stay.

But then the north calls me loud and clear,
True wilderness I want to feel and hear,
Spellbinding beauty with long summer days,
Pure sweet air that is worthy of praise.

The northern magic of pristine winter so cold,
With scenes that forever you want to behold,
Until you remember the winter’s long stay,
How long the cold day, how very short the day.

Then the call of the sea comes to beacons me,
To see and hear mighty waves break relentlessly
On the cold grey stones or on soft sandy shore,
But then I would want my dear home once more.

(Millicent) Ann Margetson 26 February 2004