A dash of yellow sand, <br />Wind-scattered and sun-tanned; <br />Some waves that curl and cream along the margin of the strand; <br />And, creeping close to these <br />Long shores that lounge at ease, <br />Old Erie rocks and ripples to a fresh sou'-western breeze. <br /> <br />A sky of blue and grey; <br />Some stormy clouds that play <br />At scurrying up with ragged edge, then laughing blow away, <br />Just leaving in their trail <br />Some snatches of a gale; <br />To whistling summer winds we lift a single daring sail. <br /> <br />O! wind so sweet and swift, <br />O! danger-freighted gift <br />Bestowed on Erie with her waves that foam and fall and lift, <br />We laugh in your wild face, <br />And break into a race <br />With flying clouds and tossing gulls that weave and interlace.<br /><br />Emily Pauline Johnson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/erie-waters/
