Dee E. White

Georgetown, Ontario, Canada

I started writing poetry when I was 12 years old. In 1974, after many years of hospitals due to a wrong medical diagnosis, I started to write again, and have emerged, after years of determined effort and perseverance, stronger in mind and faith. I'm the author of two books, was a columnist for a newspaper, and contributor writer for a magazine. I've had poems published in newspapers and by The National Library of Poetry. Winner of their Editor's Choice Award, 1995. Poetry saw me safely through the storm. It smiled on me, while carrying messages of hope and love.

Ode To Mountsberg

Give me the wide open spaces, where the white-
tailed deer and red foxes run,
And beavers build dams across sylvan streams
that catch the falling rays of sun.
Where the great blue heron wades in the marshes,
fishes, roosts and flies,
And the red-winged blackbird calls Con-ker-ee,
Con-ker-ee, into spring's fair skies.

Give me the wide open spaces, where the sky-winds
blow, and the coyote wails,
And one can explore the pioneer and lakeshore trails.
Where hummingbirds drink flower nectar on wing,
And creeks run deep and trout skilfully swim.
And clouds sail like ships on a fresh breeze, where,
full-rigged, they gracefully plough and skim.

Give me the wide open spaces, where sunsets flare
like burning plains,
And the hills are washed with rainbow-tinted rains.
Where river otters play tag among bending reeds,
chipmunks scurry over the verdant sod,
Until the warm sunlight fades and night is soothed
by the pleased sighs of God.

The Thames Ancient Song

Fish rippling the shadows, light polishing
the water,
Borne along with the centuries while they
laughed and cried.
Flowing through Time, this ancient onlooker,
Where galleons once anchored on chafing tide.

Passing buildings full of charming mellowness,
This old fellow as noble as Nelson and Cook.
Heaving with ships, but with a timeless stillness,
Like the now cherished words of a classical book.

Like a butterfly's wings, wide-open and noiseless,
Glassy and glossy as it gently wafts on.
Like a witch that flourishes, bewitches, embraces,
A wharf lamp outburnt like the years that have gone.

Passed Greenwich and Deptford, proud London Bridge, Temple,
Lapping like leaves in a shower lashed breeze.
The Thames, the city's trustworthy vassal,
Ever industrious, like noontide bees.

It was near me in childhood, and i still hear it laughing,
Like the frolicking waves of a good-humoured sea.
Far away am I now from its blithe merry-making,
Many years have now past, but it still sings to me.

Dee White welcomes letters in care of:
The International Poetry Hall of Fame
1 Poetry Plaza
Owings Mills, MD 21117