Poetry of Canadian Carver John Ireland
Bare feet kiss the kitchen floor
Fingers scratching skin through hair
Kanock of a coffee pot
Water through a whistle
Furnace breathes an endless sigh
like Wind through a cardboard tube
Kids breathing low and high
Birdsong christens morning stillness
Drapes sway this way that way
Sunshine finds its morning spot
Golden though the air is white
Dog tapping, snuffling, flapping
Woodwork waiting overnight
Gas stove on, steel stretching
Carve a chip
"Let there be light"
To our farmhouse by the willow
morning comes in shades of light:
through a reef of slender trees
as grow from some savanna night:
branches black against the cloudless
yellow, orange, violet, white:
barely moving, pale blue merging
halo rising, leaves catch light:
day takes form, from starlight born
as in a dream - within my sight.
John Ireland farms with his wife and two children near Stettler, Alberta. His is a mixed grain and cattle operation. When not farming, he gets involved in a number of family oriented, outdoor recreational activities, does some volunteer work and also enjoys learning about new and interesting subjects. He is working on his Arts degree and doing some creative writing, but most recently he has discovered Chip carving.
He has not always been an Alberta. He was born in Revelstoke, B.C., and area diverse in rich and natural beauty. He was working there as a carpenter when one day he met this girl who told him she knew the whereabouts of an enchanted farm beyond the mountains -"and now you know the rest of the story".
Having grown up in such a natural environment he developed an appreciation that he takes with him wherever he travels, alone or with his family.