Tarn of Maple Ridge
reflecting fragrant firs
and cumulus formations in the sky.
Lying placid, hidden
beyond the common sight,
yet there to fill the weary eye.
Beckoning to creatures
a haven in her arms,
the fish below,the osprey soars on high.
The forest cover dying,
it's brilliant colors grand,
and soon she'll sleep,beneath the ice she'll lie.
In long nights of winter
blue water shall I dream,
In memories of Maple Lake I glide.