Editor:
To get to Gibsons you must float,
Across Howe Sound, our precious moat.
Last boat landed, all’s then still,
Roar of traffic now is nil.
Peaceful village by the sea,
Friendly place, for thee and me.
Hill sides lush and richly green,
Ocean vistas, air is clean.
Bridge from city planned, they say,
Suburb sprawl is how we’ll pay.
‘Twill be an urban planning test,
To grow a spreading Surrey West.
Albert Reeve, Gibsons
