People’s Day at Bay Port

When the engines curve ‘round the winding roads

And empty their laughing, carless loads,

Are the luncheon baskets and babies laid,

By the sweet-meat stands with the lemonade.

And here is a tent among the trees,

With doors wide open to catch the breeze

That comes up soothing the thirsty land

 From the waters lapping the shining sand.

And Doris is sitting in cosy nook

Idly reading her treasure book;

It may be of travels in foreign climes,

Or the frolics of love- who is mad at times.

There stately stands the great hotel,

Hid in the shades of the boskey dell,

Whose cool verandas offer those

Who wish for rest such a sweet repose.

Or in virgin forests search for health,

Where nature offers her boundless wealth.

‘Mid pine-needle paths and leafy bowers,

With endless profusion of wildwood flowers.

Here’s a cosy ingle hid from view;

Somebody speaks- is it one or two?

A laugh rings out clear full of fun:

Certainly, yes! There is more than one.

And away out there on the water blue

Rocks a little boat with another hue.

In dainty dresses the maidens wade,

Reckless alike of sun or shade;

Above the ripples the white arms rise,

Splashing the water in face and eyes.

A boy sits there on a mossy log

Watching his great Newfoundland dog,

Who bounding off o’er the pebbly sand,

Brings the floating chips to his masters hand.

Away down there on a hidden bank,

Where the alder trees grow tall and rank,

The girl’s sharp voices sound out clear

Is it right or proper to bathe out here?

The water is looking so cool and sweet,

We are just going in here with bare feet.

Oh, Ah, O dear! It is so cold,

I am slipping away- do give me hold!

And the ribbon has fallen from my hair,

I never can get it way out there.

How can I go home in such a fright?

With nothing to tie my hair to-night.

O, for the new unfettered joy!

So wild and free for the girl and boy;

Here are a dozen more or less,

Awaiting the boatman now I guess.

Who stands on the slippery stone and sand,

Steadying the boat, or help them land.

Crowding, balancing, large and small,

How can a boat contain them all?

Laughing, chattering , with happy smiles,

Their barque is bound for enchanted isles–

Under the skies so fair and blue,

Where are the darlings sailing to?

Up in the shade of the leafy woods

Two lone men sit in their silent moods:

Their wandering thoughts are far away–

Can they be happy for just one day?

Ah! They are taking a last farewell

To the beautiful bay, and who can tell,

In foreign lands or boundless west,

Will they ever find pure content or rest?

But the busy workers in worldly strife,

In these grand, green avenues find new life;

The cooling breezes bring health again

To the fainting body and weary brain.

The tired mother in healthful quest,

And fretful babies all find rest;

And long remember the happy day

They spent at Bay Port, on Wild Fowl Bay

                                    S.T. ranger.

The Courier~Herald.

East Saginaw, MIch.