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James Perry and I met in October, 2000 when I visited Prince Edward Island. We met through my web site and we have been good friends ever since. James is very talented in many ways and is an especially good writer and poet. I have decided to show case some of his poetry that was originally posted in the Ancestral Home Newsletter. I know you will enjoy his writings.

            S uddenly they arrived into the village,
            E very man and boy they wanted.
            V iciously rounded up and imprisoned in the church,
            E ncircled by soldiers, armed and angry.
            N o one allowed to come or to go,
            T hey were guarded all day and all night.
            E nemies for life they became,
            E ach side watching the other,
            N either wanting a fight.

            F orced from our homes, burnt before our eyes;
            I mperialism reigning supreme.
            F amilies torn apart, sons and daughters lost forever,
            T ransported in ships to far away lands,
            Y oung and old together.

            F ar flung across the world.
            I ll gotten property, herds and flocks.
            V ie Acadie Vie!
            E den was not forever lost.

Green grows the grass on the Beaubassin's gentle slopes,
The distant cows, heavy with milk, mooing.
For fisherman, farmer, baker, blacksmith and miller,
Beaubasin's life was quiet, kind and gentle.
A ship entering the harbour, broke the stillness of the day.
Bodes ill for all, for only trouble this lot could bring us.
Fly Acadie fly, the darkness is coming!

The cannon roars, again and again,
The countryside quiet viciously broken.
Redcoats slowly advancing,
Killing intent on their faces.
Flames rising against the suns setting,
Le Loutre burning it all.
Years of effort, generation passed forward,
Destroyed black in a handful of minutes.

We flee into the night, half naked
Carrying only what we can handle.
Amidst cannon, lost children, fire, and chaos,
Will Beausejour welcome us all?
The English victors now celebrate.
Our lands and herds are now George's forever!
Under the cross of St. Andrew, will they prosper?

Acadie is now homeless!
Far flung across the world's lands.
Someday we will be back together,
Brother and sister restored to the family.
The blood in our veins, will match the stains
On the ground, where lives were taken.

Imprisonment, deportation or death,
For many there is not a difference.
Children left orphans, parents gone forever.
Destitute, desperate, hungry and cold,
The young cry day and night for succor.

Yellowed starred blue, white and red,
Flags fly at the border now welcome Acadie
Come home, to celebrate four hundred
Your old lands now cry out in gladness.

The spilt blood on the ground is now long gone
As you walk on the gentle grass slopes
The cows distant mooing is heard, once again

The future is bright with promise, Acadie rises again!
God bless you, dear Acadie forever;

Amen and Amen and Amen

Acadie, Where Art Thou?
My Acadie, Where have thou gone?
Stolen by a thief, right in the daylight
My brother Acadie, Where have thou gone?
Scattered to the four winds
For refusing to fight.
My lovely Acadie,
Where have thou gone?
Homes and lands pillaged
Burnt black as the night
By the King's red coated men
While our fathers and sons
Dear husbands and brothers
Imprisoned in the village
Stand helpless watching the fire
Burn bright.

My darling Acadie, Where have thou been?
To Dante's hell and back
Expulsion, Dispersion, Eviction
Torn from thee dear Acadie
Ripped from the bosom of thy family
Sons and daughters, sisters and brothers
Husbands and wives, fathers and mothers
Like Evangeline of old
Your story, my love
Still needs to be told!

My heavenly Acadie, Where are thou going?
Gone to the future
Come from the past
Pathways thru the forest
Strewn with your blood and ashes
Softly call out your name
Acadie, Acadie!
Hidden away for years
Your ancient land cleansed pure
By our God's own tears
Futures forged
Dies cast Like a pheonix,
From the ashes
My Acadie rises from the past!

My beautiful Acadie, Where art thou now?
In the stillness of the meadow
The lark awaits your return
In the scent of the sunrise
By the light of the moon
Where the tide ebbs and flows
When the apple blossom blooms
In the shadow of the wood
The timid deer, ears perked
Pauses to hear
Of your coming
When the west wind blows
by Blomiden's Cape
I see thee, dear Acadie
I feel thee
You are in my heart
You are my spirit
You have finally, finally come home!

Arsenic, Lavender,
Hyssop and Thyme
Clove, Sage and Ginger
All grow in a line
Savory for the goose
Parlsey for the gander
Oregano for moose
It could not be grander.

Rosemary planted next to the Chives
Their flowers soon pillaged
By the little honey bee
Stealing the nector
To make liquid gold in their hives
Grapes grow by the pallisade
Cling to the vine
Stomped in the vat
Bottled, it is sweet wine
Mint for my teacup
Grows all by its itself
With a dollop of gold honey
Its tastes so delightful
Its flavor so full
Paris can't offer
A drink so divine.

These lovely herbs
All grow in my garden
For the Order of Good Cheer
Needs their flavour
More than their stale beer.

© James Perry
©Lucie LeBlanc Consentino
©Acadian & French Canadian Ancestral Home
2004 - Present

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Music Sequenced by Heatherli(Susan) Giffen