Fundy

 



Squeezed between two provinces.

NB and NS.

And pulsing with each tide.

When up the waves

When down the mud

Where shellfish

Came to hide.

A people plain

A people kind

Who’d give all that

They could.

The hinterland for timber.

The finest kinds of wood.



Acadia, a name that stuck.

And Longfellow’s poem for sure.

Evangeline a beauty rare

Expelled with roamings

To endure.

Her lover Lad

Sent on before.

Another ship of woe.

She followed, followed 

Cross the lands

Her Lover’s fate to know.

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