Poets' Corner

In Thamesis’ Flow at End of Day 
(with humble apologies to Rabbie! - and thanks to Kris Nisson)

Great is thy pull - auld swirling Thames
Far ken'd an' noted is thy name; 
An' ‘tween much varied banks thy hame, 
Thou travels far; 
An' faith! thou's neither lag nor lame, 
Ye loved an’ wide, our mighty flow’r. 
 

We hear our Bill / Graeme / Roger say
Oot cut from skiffy shed ye must!
Then under strings the handles passed
Join Thames’s flow at end of day.
Nod at’t moon 
low o’er reflecting waters grey 
T’will be dark an’ soon. 
 

‘Tis a crisp, windy, wintry night,
An’ stars shoot down wi' sklentin light
Our fine wrought craft the waters bite. 
Swish an’ swash her bow.
So swoosh an’ clonk - wi’ thrusting might
An’ hark that sweet and rippling sough.
 

An’ cudg’ls, the blades, the waters rake
Each stroke strains stringéd thole an’ strake 
An’ then ‘twixt hearty pull “- snick - snack”
Left a coot an’ right a drake 
Wi’ - flutter-scatter - to wing do take. 

Wi’ tholes distraught an’ creaky boord, 
So strives our steed to wind and onward, 
So on an’ on an’ on upstream 
the flushed an’ sweaty pullers lured - 
- Na doot, wi’ smiles and’ eyes a-gleam.

Passed shady rives wi' lust an’ strain, 
We plunge an' plunge the oars  - na pain -  
for oh! such toil wi’ pleasure ta’en
wi’ practiced skill 
oft oot to’t ait an’ back again
Such pull our joy - an’ s’treuth our fill.
 

Coxswain’s gloved hands the lines do grip
Urging oarsmen’s blades down, then up, 
Firm on stretcher an’ back to stop.
”Head up!” the yell
“dip na or else ye’ll feel ma whip”.
An’ past yon brygges we glide aye well.

At furthest ait ‘tis time to turn
Bow blades the sparkled waters churn
An’ off back hame the noo it is
Urg’d by the River’s flow the stern -
Town - Boaters – Turks – the bar - the bizz!

From Gordon Dear, our esteemed President: