| Previous | May 23, 1992 | Next |
Tennis | ||
| The racket pings with fulsome pride To hit unto the other side. But often, though I aim with care The ball just wanders anywhere. The rarely well placed shot's a joy That pleases like a Christmas toy. The tennis ball comes whizzing by. I missed again; I wonder why. If it's too near I cannot swing, Or if it's far I miss the thing. My strokes are poor, my grip is weak! I'll never have a winning streak. But exercise is lots of fun. I don't mind playing in the sun. | ||
| Previous | Category Sports Categories Index | Next in Category |