I pull these oars to stay afloat
And pray each day the wind will blow
But this blue bird’s day does dash my hopes.
I know that I would sink my boat
If ever I should cease to row
But when it seems that I should slow,
My arms grow stronger with every stroke.
My arms grow stronger with every stroke,
An I am better for rowing this boat.
Sam Bartholomew's Writing Blog 
Such descriptive vivid language. Your words come alive to me. Thank you for sharing. I am glad I came across your page as a fellow oarsman!
Erik
http://erikconover.com/2014/07/10/south-jersey-native/
Thank you for coming across it! I appreciate the feed back!
You’re very welcome