A Villanelle on Rowing

A Villanelle on Rowing*

When the sun rises, oarsmen work their blades,
There’s no better way to start a new day;
Bodies swinging, while ducks rest in the shades.

Each rower’s oar makes a ring that soon fades,
The narrow shell moves quickly on its way,
When the sun rises, oarsmen work their blades

The green trees at shore form scenic arcades –
A crew of nine young men, busy at play;
Bodies swinging, while ducks rest in the shades.

Forgotten are last night’s busty barmaids
And your noisy mates at an eve so gay,
When the sun rises, oarsmen work their blades,

Gone are last night’s clamour pub charades;
In the boat, mind’s set, there’s nothing to say,
Bodies swinging, while ducks rest in the shades

Pull, pull, long outings are painful crusades;
All are at their best, or there’s hell to pay
When the sun rises, oarsmen work their blades,
Bodies swinging, while ducks rest in the shades.

G.R.B.
(8 October, 2013)

* With apologies to Dylan Thomas!

See also Paradelle.

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