Thru White Capped Waves Poem by Bud Taylor

On the wharf my craft awaits
sleek and light
thru white-capped waves a path it will carve

I take hold of the oar
flip it here and there
warming my body for the race

Onto the water it alights
awaiting my motive force
the bending of the knee & elbow
the pull of a taut shoulder

Some far off bell, a tower reverberates
Off i go bending to the water
This craft slicing thru the water beneathe

There on the river bank a sister
lawn chair and parasol decked out
a young boy playing at her feet
a cheerful wave as i streamline by

Further along the rider's steed bending its thirst to slake
a cool sip from refreshing waters
her gaze cool like the ancient glacier of Mount Robson
as i pass the Weeping Willow
the trail along the river beckons

The river calling a merry gurgling
the dipping of the oar
my pace quickens