A poem for rowers... by Horace (ace cow poet)

THE ROWERS

And so the Comrades
Blades held firm
Do tense their bodies
Await their trial
And by their efforts
Give their all
Till muscles beg
For sweet relief
But more they pull
Through sweated pain
All time now lost
And still they pull
Until at last
Their victory

Thank you,

Horace

(Horace would like it known that he is still open to approaches from publishers.)