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in fundy bay boats start to trawl
as the briny tide ebbs and swells
wee chilern wander clutching shells
while from the mist a lone gull calls
mothers hang washin’ on the line
and chat with neighbours over a cup
’til clothes are dry or weather picks up
and smiling dads come home to dine
on pei the sand is red
from iron in the rock below
in its loamy soil corn will grow
for the lobster supper spread
a careworn figure stalks the beach
scouring hunks of driftwood found
he’ll paint ‘em up and turn ‘em round
and sell ‘em for a hundred each
in nova scotia they’re friendly folk
beer and mussels and a handshake
all are welcome at the clambake
singin’ along while supper smokes
go to the docks get us some crabs
look lively now the dory’s back
’tis raining out so wear your mac
look lively b’y no jibber-jab
on signal hill atop st. john’s
spring has started when you see
icebergs parade in chilly seas
and cutters in the harbour yon
at end of day the tide returns
fishing boats unload their holds
artists mix their reds and golds
to paint the sea as the sun sojourns
~e
