background for the poll in the next entry

If Eugene Field Could Row, or Thomas Eakins Could Write

The weather forecast said drizzly and grey
A foul sort of day for a row.
But regattas are looming and I need to train,
So there was no choice but to go.

The boathouse was lively, the docks both were full
(The Dutch pay small heed to the rain)
I took off my coat, and carried my oars
And prepared to go out once again.

My slender light single was ready, as ever
Eager to taste of the spray.
And so we set out on the water this morning
Expecting small joy from the day.

But the wind wasn’t bad on the sheltered canal,
And the air not as cold as I’d thought,
And as I looked around to avoid other boats,
There was Spring in the glimpses I caught.

The grasses and leaves were beginning to show
A green haze behind winter trees
There in the distance were dogwoods in bloom,
And new life in the scent on the breeze.

I’m slow on the uptake, but even I grasp
What a privileged and glorious thing
It is to be here and able to row
On a Holland canal in the Spring!

( gazing at the poem's navel )

(no subject)

[Poll #951079]

I've also added a bit of poem-navel-gazing and more about the discussion in the entry below. (Well, I haven't, but by the time you read this it will be done, probably.)