Victoria Heim - Regatta

Morning mist
down to the Boathouse
there is the vessel-the shell
Rowers have a unique camaraderie
it is a most difficult sport
The coxswain, miniature coach
steers the team onto each Victory
not seeking any friendly jeers
She commands 'Now a power ten'
to quicken the pace
Always knowing how to convey the instructions
in just the right voice
Motivation is what she is after
her aura of countesy, skill
To race and win the Regatta, a coxswain's dream
Though a beaming team is really enough
is is a bit rough taking the ritual
toss into the winning waters

Victoria Heim

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/regatta/