Bowerbank
 

As I close my eyes and start to dream

I think of wild trout in a babbling stream,

Pine trees tall so straight and proud,

And a sky so clear with hardly a cloud.

The lake’s pristine with its rock bound shore,

Where nature abounds and eagles soar.

Where folks are free to do as they please

Whether heat of summer or snow to their knees.

No traffic, no whistles or foul smelling air,

Just peace and quiet so abundant there.

It has been said by folks around town

That it all started the day God looked down.

He selected a piece of some beautiful land,

There was no doubt about it, He had a plan.

A town was born, a place we all love;

A reason to pray to the Lord above.

For this place of beauty to the Lord we can thank

For our great little town called Bowerbank.

-  W. Quigley

                The Craft   

Throw in more wood,
Build up that head of steam;
As the Captain looks fore and aft
And glances across the beam.
Cast off the bow,
Cast off the stern,
Let go the springer,
As the screw begins to turn.
The course was predetermined,
We put her on do west,
T’was up the lake we headed
What a great life, the best.
We chugged along about five knots
When an east wind started blowin’.
Torrential rains were pelting down,
We couldn’t see where we were goin’. 

We brought her about to face the storm
To head her into the wind.
“Steady as she goes” the Captain said,
as he donned a big wide grin.
“Have no fear of the weather, Mates”
The Captain said quite clear.
The Captain’s voice was not much comfort
To his passengers to the rear.
Someone’s watching over us,
From Heaven he looks down.
A dear old friend of mine and yours
And lots of folks around.
“I know he’ll guide us back to dock,”
the Captain says for sure.
You see this craft is his craft too!
This is the George E. Moore.

                                     - B. Quigley

         Sebec In Summer

   "I Love thy shores of forest Green,

   The birch, the fir the pine;

   Thy Shaded groves, I rest serene

   As neath them I recline.

    Thy Cooling wave, and gentle breeze

    Are refuge from the heat;

   And sunshine days beneath thy trees

   Make summer joys complete..."

                            - H.F. Huse 1926

                A Timely Warning

There's a big notice posted in Clarke's waiting stand

Prohibiting large or small boats to land

Or use his wharf as a landing place,

Including not one, but the whole human race.

If you want to land a small boat or bark,

Be sure to get an order from W.R. Clark;

As he owns the wharf and most of the lake,

Without his permission no liberty take.

All that own steam or small motor boats,

Take my advice, build good wooden floats;

Or you'll have to land near the shore on a rock,

As Captain Clarke owns all the big docks.

The Notice he posted on the landing or wharf

Should have been, "Danger! All Hands Keep Off."

It's not a safe place for us human souls,

The Planking is rotten and full of big holes.

For carrying the mail he thinks he's complete,

With the Elsie and Edna attached to his fleet.

But they are rotten as punk -- like the old Goldenrod,

And their boilers leak steam and burn wood by the cord.

We think, like the Germans, he'll make a mistake,

When he blockades, and tries to keep Coy off the lake,

We are sure what he makes with his old wooden churns

Won't even pay for the wood that he burns.

Now all that own camps on Sebec Lake Shore,

Won't have to ride in his old junk any more.

The Waban repaired, how safe we can feel

When Captain Fred Crockett presides at her wheel.

Clarke, in bleak October, with no wind in his sail,

Will have nothing to do but carry the mail.

We'll all see his finish, and say with a grin,

"When all's going well, Captain Clarke, don't butt in."

                                                - Unknown