Anyone For Tennis
Time for the tennis
in South West 19;
Wimbledon’s courts are
a beautiful scene,
love all to begin.
Crowds start to gather
as battle proceeds,
frissons of pity
at tumbling seeds
when favourites fall.
Big baseline rallies
and thundering serves,
smashes and volleys
while holding their nerves
when match point comes round.
Who’s gonna win it?
It’s up in the air.
Someone will vanquish
the rest will despair
until the next time.
One thing’s for certain
the tournament wins.
The All-England club,
we’ll toast it with gins;
doyen of the Slams.
Larisa Rzhepishevska
Sun 6th Jul 2025 06:54
I like the poem so much! Regards, L:arisa