"It's your turn Keith, here's the pole, just keep it steady."
"OK, just a minute while I move down and get myself ready."
The punt is a boat as wide as a hamper of champagne.
A vessel with no keel or rudder, but etiquette to maintain.

I'm not sure if the others appreciated the rock and roll,
But seemed amused as I finally got the hang of the pole.
I envied my friend before me, for his sense of ease.
The others thought it unnecessary to go through the trees.

I was secretly wishing that it would soon be their turn.
Just how difficult this punting is they would soon learn.
As we drifted by a bank we had previously passed,
It was obvious we were not moving awfully fast.

"Come on Keith, we're going backwards!" came the shout.
I shoved the pole in hard, which stuck and would not come out.
For a split second I wondered whether to let go, or just hang on.
A cartoon moment with me in the air as if nothing was wrong.

Then gravity caught up and started to pull me down.
I could only hope that I was not about to drown.
But somehow the pole swung round and hit the bank.
So I dragged myself out, unaware that my trousers stank.

With a stately motion, the punt drifted back to meet me.
With heavy heart I stepped aboard, for it had defeated me.
I sat back down, quite soaked, but content just to sit it out.
The sun was high, and in its warmth, I'd soon be dry, no doubt.

We made our way to the branch in the river and back downstream.
Making good speed and having great fun on the punt as a team.
Plans were made for the evening meal, and then later a beer.
When we moored up alongside, we were full of good cheer.

My mind was distracted as I stepped off from the water.
The steadying hand perhaps should have held tighter.
But I stopped with one foot on land, and one on the punt
And what happened next was my day's second stunt.

I ended up to my waist in the cold river again.
With more harm to my pride than any real pain.
Resolved that I would never again be afloat
On such a ridiculously stupid kind of boat.