Weekly rowing poem from a Rowperfect reader – Kevin Pyne. Lyrical, ironic, comedic, and definitely worth the read!
Old Bob had always been A rower When he keeled over And died outside the rowing Club quite suddenly And unexpectedly But before his sprite could Leave his fine tall kindly Old body those there will Swear to you he was Surrounded by a host of Ghostly rowers who were Waiting for him so as they Go out rowing with He who will one day be The great coxswain to all Of us out on the heavenly Seas beyond Galilee
Now this ghostly crew Were young and tall As if they were Olympians Yet even if their kit Was from another day I saw old Bob take-up a beautiful Laminated wooden oar That one of them had Proffered to him That looked like an oar From those old faded pictures Of crews that adorn The clubhouse walls In every rowing club always Before walking off to Discus with the great Coxswain what would be The plan of attack that day
And yet he was young And he was fit just like All the others With his rowing kit being Whiter then the purest Form of light But that old man who Used to shuffled around the Rowing club because He so loved to was gone Forever to where it is That all good rowers Put up at the finest of all Regattas the very best of Winning rowing fights