I read about you once in a while,
When day had too many hours to spare.
Your twenty years tucked away on an isle
That was too far to share.

Sailing by the white shores of your harbor--
Shores that veil your bittersweet solitude--
Across those wretched waves, I wonder
If someday they would bring me to you.

I met a solid rowing friend and asked about the Race.
"How fared it with the wind," I said, "When stroke increased the pace?
You swung it forward mightily, you heaved it greatly back.
"Your muscles rose in knotted lumps, I almost heard the crack.
"And while we roared and rattled too, your eyes were fixed like glue.
"What thought went flying through ( Read more... )

We're halfway through our final charge and tomorrow will be our second burst.  This is where the extra lung pumps in more oxygen and injects liquefied iron-will into our blood and we're tearing through the pain and the water.  This is where we cross the borders of sanity.  22 deranged monsters on a roll.  Nothing can stop us now. 

You're most positively out of your mind when you look through the coming week's training schedule and fully understand how intense and merciless each session is going to be and then, halfway through, you notice that you're smiling.

There is no fear now.  Only insanity. 

By the brook -
Where the water of Spring flows;
The light of the world seeps through
Eternal boughs,
Sprinkling diamonds and dust
Onto the stream that -
By its lonesome self -
Wanders into the woods.

Dusk
Burns a deep golden in the sky.

Goodbye, goodbye,
Enchanted day! 
Take all your bright, blessed light
And go your way. 

So here,
Take my hand
And we will chase the sunrise butterflies
Through the poppy fields;
Our shadows lost
To the blue above. 

I wanted to talk about how my life has been so far but then I spent a good ten minutes fishing for something to share.  It appears that my life is as exciting as the latest news about BP's oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.  And I cannot decide if it is a fortunate thing to be living out a routine ( Read more... )

Keep us our precious memories
In the seashells of yonder days,
By the wispy willow trees,
Amidst the quiet, calming sways.

And as I watched in wonder, How
The sunbeams danced across your face,
And set aglow the edges which
Along it did so finely trace.

It's been a long while.  Getting a little rusty.

Tolling bells at noon on the first of June;
The years count up,
While we're all counting down.

Life is: not meeting deadline after deadline after deadline.