War Canoe Race

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We did it.

We came in first

We made a lot of noise

The twelve of us 

In war canoe

The two mile course

Our choice.

And at the turn

A jam packed mess

As gunwales thumped

And squealed.

But Scotty gave

A giant push

That we might 

gain the field.

It seemed a

Second wind set in.

As we the

Camp could see

And blueberry pie

And cold ice cream

The prize deserved

BY ME!



The paddles stowed

The heaving chests

The handshakes for

Our friends.

And sportsmanship

Came up a notch.

That’s how

Our story ends.


Note: in giving account of a heated Race, phase by phase, I am reminded of a long narrative poem by John Masefield about a major steeplechase horse event in England. The title was…just give me a minute…let me call to mind…hold on, my friend…RIGHT ROYAL,  51 pages of excitement in rhyme. Volume copyright 1923. A gift from a workmate Mike Stuebing . Now 100 year old book!







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