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Poems From Bard to Verse
by
Mel Wade
MOIBLES ANYONE?
Tennis was known as a
gentleman's game,
But somehow it hasn't remained the same
As thousands of players of every sort
Pick up a racket and enter a court.
Seek out a lesson in which to enroll-
Still losing the battle for shot control.
Harried executives over the nation
Take up the game to relieve their frustration.
But stress can't excuse the urge to unwind
By aiming a ball at their partner's behind.
All kinds of people are now playing tennis-
Consider some partners who add to this menace:
Just when you think you've perfected your stroke
Along comes the partner who'll cause you to choke.
He considers his game above all reproach
So of course he decides to be your new coach!
A tip for your backhand, a suggestion for service,
A poach of your shot-and that makes you nervous!
While you run to the baseline, then rush to the net.
He doesn't bother to work up a sweat.
And then there's the tiger who plays the whole game
With audible oaths-and intention to maim.
With great fits of temper and sharp words of spite
He loudly announces your serve isn't right.
Embarrassing you at a point in the tournament,
Angrily smashing his wand on the firmament.
One opponent I know should be brought to account
He can't keep the score - yet demands a recount.
At one time this game was the sole "Sport of Kings"
While the masses engaged in alternative things.
Perhaps tennis players possessed of these foibles
Should take up a simpler sport such as moibles!
Reprinted here
with the kind permission of the author Mel Wade - © December 9, 2000
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E-mail Mel Wade at: melwade at execpc dot com
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Last updated:
Thursday, September 11, 2003
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