Those who struggle can not swim,
They meet their own resistance,
Suffer they from heavy limb,
That will not last the distance.
Those who swim in part submerged,
With half their heart committed,
They tire soon, as poorly served,
By shallow breaths acquitted.
Those who swim with buoyant ease,
They suffer not fatigue,
They ride the water’s gentle squeeze,
And thus they swim in league.
. Lapse not in to heavy thinking,
. Burdened … to the point of sinking.

© Tim Grace, 20 February 2011

To the reader: The art of swimming. Going with the flow. Immersed in a liquid moment. At one with your surroundings. If you watch the experts, the trick seems to be a combination of style and technique; together, delivering a confident stamina. Swift buoyancy. There is no struggle. A great swimmer gives more meaning to ‘stroke’ than any dictionary could offer.

To the poet: Loose in its sonnet structure this poem divides into three verse-like quatrains. As with lanes in a pool the quatrains mark out meaning. In this case, the first two sets of four define the struggle of a non-swimmer in competition with water. The next four lines refer to the swimmer in league with water. Natural swimmers work in partnership with water, they are fluid and streamlined; poetry in motion.

streamlined