A Canadian Dream

I woke sad this day, after the dreams my way, and walking miles, to see them play.

Through trees and fields and winded shields, a shelter from the hail, tho, never to fail, and a day of drought but still no doubt.

So was the dream a vision,

the colours so bright, beneath the stars, just one more night.

I awoke before morning with cold in my feet, the sun slowly climbing behind mountains steep,

and as the first rays fell upon my face, I stood up in awe, at the winder and grace.

Open fields for miles and miles, with colours so bright they hurt my eyes, patches of red, orange and blue, the dream was a vision, the vision true.

Then I sat down after I ate, I was still alone, I had got there too late, for there was a colour missing from my dream, though I traveled fast over hill and stream.

The colours was green, and a tear did happen, there was no girl, in the blue berry barrens.

The colour was green, and a tear did happen, there was no girl, in the blue berry barrens.