Match Point

Standing your turf
wielding a giant pen.

Power serving words,
determined to win. 

Into the net,
foot-faulted
out of bounds,
disqualified.

Will you be the 
pinnacle of calm
or pull a McEnroe? 

Steady your pace
or steamroll every 
opponent you face?

Time tames 
the temper
as many 
professionals
know. 

Love,
match point,
grow. 
 

growthlovematchpoetstempertennisturfwriters

◄ The Enlightenment

Kings and Scribes ►

Comments

poemagraphic

Thu 31st Jan 2019 23:25

Freedom is the game!

New balls ;)

Po

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Vautaw

Thu 31st Jan 2019 20:15

We know why you are here Po, to cheer us on to write more! Thanks for stopping by and playing the game! 🥰

poemagraphic

Thu 31st Jan 2019 20:04

OMG

This is what I come here for!

I almost forgot why I'm here.

Great poem Vautaw

Game set and.....

Po

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