The last of the creative writings I want to share at this point, any way, is a light-hearted poem about a vacation place we have enjoyed over the years. It’s located in one of the great lakes in the northern parts of the USA. The only access to this island is a ferry boat which runs between the island and the peninsula of Wisconsin. There is a part of the lake known as “Death’s Door” because the lake is especially treacherous there and many ships have gone down during severe weather at that location. There is also  local folklore about the island being “north of the tension line” referring to the notion that people leave all their cares behind when they come to vacation there. We have written an extension to this poem with the hopes that we can get it published in a children’s book, but the part that we share here is the first part which was written while visiting the island for the first time some years ago. We hope you enjoy this little preview of what may be to come sometime in the future:

North of the Tension Line

Stresses and Pressures were first to begin it

Then Busy Time asked them if he could join in it.

“Why, sure!” said the two as they winked at each other,

“And bring along Fussy, your sweet baby brother.”

Together they planned a vacation escape.

They boxed all their troubles and sealed them with tape.

“Hurray!” cried the four as they loaded the wagon,

But all of their stuff made the bottom start draggin’

All of these things they could not do without.

To leave them would soon be disastrous, no doubt.

“These burdens are heavy,” they said with a sigh,

“But we can’t leave them here so we’ll just have to get by.”

What were these boxes all packed in a hurry?

Stresses and Pressures had packed lots of worry.

Busy Time’s list had “to do” on each line.

And Fussy, the babe was beginning to whine.

When just up ahead there came into view

The Washington Ferry to carry them through.

But though all the others paid fare and drove on

The ship’s captain told them to park on the lawn.

He said, “All these things that you’re bringing must stay.

They cannot be brought where we’re going today.

Due north between here and the island, you know,

Is the tension line through which these things cannot go.”

“The tension line borders the island’s great shore,

And worrisome things can’t go through any more.

Well, the ferry is leaving, decide in a hurry.

Will you come without things that could cause you to worry?”

It took just a moment for all to decide.

They would leave all their worries behind for this ride.

Once on the ferry they felt unencumbered.

And on Washington Island contented they slumbered.