Tag: writing

In the pages of his prose and verse, Michael Ondaatje weaves a universe, Of vivid images and complex themes, That linger long after the final scenes. With pen in hand, he conjures worlds, Of distant lands and hidden pearls, Of lives in flux and hearts in pain, Of love and loss, joy and disdain. His … Continue reading Eponymous Ondaatje – Memories Through the Eyes of my City

Nick Auf Der Mar, a man of words Whose pen is mightier than the sword He wields his wit with skill and grace And brings Montreal to life, in every place Through his words, the city comes alive Its people, culture, and spirit thrive He speaks of its history with great respect And of its … Continue reading Eponymous Nick – Memories Through the Eyes of my City

Aislin, oh Aislin, so bold and so bright, His pen a weapon, his wit a delight. With strokes so deft, he draws with great skill, His cartoons sharp, his satire a thrill. From Trudeau to Trump, no one is safe, He skewers them all with wit and with grace. His humour cuts deep, exposing their … Continue reading Mosher on Aislin – Memories Through the Eyes of my City

In the quiet of my mind, I hear The echoes of a distant past, A poet's voice, both bright and clear, Whose words still ring, though he's long passed. Emile Nelligan, the name we know, A soul who burned with passion's flame, Whose verses flowed like falling snow, Each one a work of art, his … Continue reading Eponymous Nelligan – Memories Through the Eyes of my City

In Balconville, the people gather round On their balconies high above the ground A community unique, with stories to tell Of struggles and triumphs, and life lived well The buildings stand tall, but the people taller still Their spirits unbroken, their hearts full of will For in Balconville, there's a sense of pride In the … Continue reading Fennario’s Balcony – Memories Through the Eyes of my City

Professor Layton, fiery and bold, Our poet whose words could never be old, In mere sentences or simple rhymes, For he danced with language, countless times. With a pen as sharp as a warrior's sword, He sliced through convention, struck every chord, His poetry, a mirror of the human soul, A journey through the depths, … Continue reading Eponymous Layton – Memories Through the Eyes of my City

In Montreal's winding streets I roamed, A wordsmith's pen my only home, And in my mind, a world I'd sewn, With tales of life, both rich and lone. My name is Mordecai Richler, A voice for those who are not heard, I write of love and loss and pain, Of fathers, sons, and all that's … Continue reading Eponymous Richler – Memories Through the Eyes of my City

In Le Vieux Munich, the air was thick With the scent of beer and hearty food The walls were lined with memories old Of nights gone by, of tales untold In every corner, a story lingers Of patrons past, of loves and singers Of laughter loud, of tears shed true Of dreams fulfilled, of dreams … Continue reading Le Vieux Munich – Memories Through the Eyes of my City