I wrote this poem this week of October 21, 2024 to reflect on a small group of us who curl together and who have become friends. We formed without the knowledge that we each were born and raised, or were descended from parents who had lived in northern Ontario – and in some cases only miles apart. We chose our name to reflect and celebrate this thread that pulled us together. This poem is but a simple testament to our friendship.
Our team comes from Ontario in the north
For either our parents or us, its where we set forth
We curl together at the Navan Curling Club
Right next to the fairground and town’s business hub
Diane is from the Kap and she is our Lead
Setting guards, take outs and whatever we need
She plays with a stick and curls a wicked draw
She loves to laugh and yelling hurrah
Richard’s father is from Ramore, a town radar made fun
Richard plays as Second, but is second to none
He can draw with the best but likes the take-out
He lets’ his shot say it all and rarely will shout
Sylvie was raised in the town of Kirkland Lake
She plays Vice and makes shots one can’t fake
She can thread the needle into the house
She curls with a smile and never does grouse
George’s dad is from the village of Charlton
George is the Skip, playing to win and have fun
He can make the shots but misses his fair share
He sets the broom and then says a prayer
Our focus is fun for it will never be fame
We curl because we love it as a Canadian game
Throwing rocks and sweeping as hard as we can
We do our best and count on more than a plan
We’ve got team shirts, a rock and a team cheer
We’re Team Northern Lights; from that northern sphere
We share team hugs and support each other as friends
Beyond the game for whenever it ends.