Given the Oars to Row

Most who have been there will admit...
Fortunes aren't first recognized.
We are too busy looking for the gleam and glitter!
To impress before an acceptance is made.
These are confessions from those experienced.
Those who have paved,
Their own way.
And...
Have learned from many lessons.

Some await for titles to be sought.
To dropp jaws and bug eyes.
With a round of expressed applause.
Expected.

And those unafraid to claw themselves through tunnels,
Usually find daylight quicker...
Than someone seeking to protect manicured nails.
Or spend time shopping,
For the right survival outfit.

And the ones who sit wishing,
For their ship to sail in.
May lose their opportunity altogether.
Since they mistake someone rowing a boat,
As insignificant.

And the rower of the boat,
Rows away.
Knowing who has the authority,
To evict everyone from their lofty dreams!

Having been given the oars to row...
In any direction desired.
And...
A choice to be selective.

Those decisions to make,
Escapes away,
Eventually...
From the vision of most folks!

'Henry?
Is there any caviar left?
The order I placed for ham sandwiches,
Seems to be a bit late! '

~We are out of all supplies.
The owner of this island should be arriving soon.
He's rowing a boat.
He also comes to invite us to aboard his yacht,
For cocktails later.
He should be arriving soon.
With the provisions.
If you see him,
Overlook his appearance.
They can be quite deceiving,
You know? ~

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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