Wind

Trim the jib! Let out the leech!
The boom is coming 'round!
If the wind stay with us now
We're surely vic'try bound!

A knock! A knock! The wind's gone flat
Which blows across our bow.
I know we still can pull this off
If we don't panic now!

There's better air just up ahead --
There's rippling on the waves.
We'll lead the fleet that once we led
If this breeze just behaves.

The final boat is gaining fast;
Just hope this lift will hold!
If our luck falls we'll finish last
When all is done and told.

A boat, I see, has fallen back.
We lead it by a length!
And now that we've cut off their wind,
Their weakness is our strength.

Oh, please! Not yet! The gun went off!
Someone else got first place!
I guess we should congratulate
Whoever won the race.

There is a 'quaint' old sentiment
Which I find rather lame:
"It isn't if you win or lose;
It's how you play the game."

So I will meet you at the start
If sailing weather's fine.
And when the gun goes off, I think
You'll find your ass is mine....

This poem is dedicated to Edward P. Kearns, esquire.