Wimbledon Fortnight
Wimbledon fortnight is here once again,
Whether the sun shines, or whether there's rain,
Out come the nets, the white court lines are drawn,
Another great tennis championship has been born.
The stewards walk on and start taking their places,
Ready to watch players going through their paces,
Seeing that balls are not hit out of court,
These top tennis matches are vigorously fought.
The top seeds have come to show what they can do,
Their fans, with excitement will camp out and queue
To purchase a ticket, which is not easy to get,
To sit through the hours while they win the first set.
It's very nail biting and nerve racking too,
To watch all the moves and be unable to do
Anything to help the poor players, who try,
Especially when the shots are too low or too high.
The thuds of the rackets are rhythmic and strong,
Some serves are too short and some are too long,
The roar of the crowd, when their hero has scored,
And even more so, when their win is assured.
The umpire is diligently watching the game,
He's not here to wallow in fortune and fame,
But he's making sure that there's always fair play,
And that everyone's happy at the end of the day.
The ball boys and girls, who collect all the balls,
When a service is done, listen out for the calls,
From the linesmen, who shout if the shot is not true,
And whisk up the balls. We admire them, we do!
It's love, deuce, advantage, game, set and match,
They battle together, their opponent to dispatch,
The supporters heads sweep, to left and to right,
As they view the tense struggle, the scoring is tight.
But eventually, it's the day of the great final event,
His Royal Highness arrives, it's the tall Duke of Kent,
The atmosphere's electric, the players are here,
The welcome they get is one huge mighty cheer.
The game is well played and the audience are thrilled,
But one's got to win, there's a place to be filled,
The last shot is cast, and the winner jumps high
Over the net, with a loud joyous cry.
The Duke now comes forward, the cup to present,
A very great thrill at the auspicious event,
The winner holds it high up, above his proud head,
He's so lucky, for he only just won by a thread.
But Wimbledon fortnight, has been around now for years,
It's a thrill for the watchers, bringing elation and tears,
With champagne to drink, and those strawberries and cream,
It's the place that's the shrine of a tennis player's dream.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Your Masters Are Paid Millions
Masters of small spinning balls
golf balls tennis balls baseballs
basket balls foot balls
are worth millions
should be paid millions
each year for services
services to society
services to local global community
but police nurses teachers
should be paid menial wages
such are not main players
players of great glory games
what is their service
service to the community worth
is it really worth so little
let me entertain you
while you watch watch watch
watch a poor police person take a bribe
watch a poor nurse sell some work drugs
watch a teacher change careers
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Basketball
What Springfield needs most at their ‘Y, ' so they say,
Is good old athletic distraction
For rowdy boys pinned up inside all the day
By weather below satisfaction.
The teacher from Canada, tasked to design
An inside game, fair but not so rough
To him they have given a brutal deadline:
"Just two weeks or be fired! " And that's tough.
He's chosen the softest of big soccer balls
To not hurt the boys when they get hit,
Peach baskets are affixed high up on the walls
Reducing all rough contact unfit
The rules permit only the passing of balls
No dribbling or batting, to be safe.
And running the ball? Not allowed, lest the falls
Cause the limbs of the players to chafe
The peach basket goals, players never should guard
For the game is not just for the tall
But easy and fair to all, not at all hard
This game by John Naismith- ‘Basket Ball'
The one game we all play
The one game we all play
We play games
To show our valour
And mainly to win
We do not mind going for coaching
If we feel we do not have the
Required strength to win
We play games
Either as a team or individual
The attempt is to demonstrate
That we are better talented
Than the team or member
Against whom we play
Nations enthuse people to play games
So that they add pride
Some games are played with
Gadgets and protective accessories
We have spectators to watch
The way we play
We have umpires and referees
Who ensure rules of the games
Are strictly adhered
And it is all a fair play
We play games indoor or outdoor
We play games in daylight
Or under artificial illumination
We score while playing
And the score achieved by a team or individual
In a specific time
Decides the winner
We telecast the games
We comment on the strengths and weaknesses
Of a team or individual
We conduct national and international
Tournaments to declare a team or individual
As champion
Irrespective of skills, race, gender
We all play a game
Which is played mainly to lose
It is an individual game
With no specific rules
With no umpire
With no spectator
With no commentator
With no TV coverage
With no scores
With no trophies
With no victory stands
With no top scorer
With no “player of the match”
But we play
Most of us like to play this game
Indoor and in closed doors
Decency and civilized ways
Do not allow this game being played in the open
There is no season for this game
It can be played any part of the day
And any part of the year
Summer, winter, monsoon seasons
Have no bearing on this game
The one requirement in this game is
Complete transparency and intimacy
Rules for this game
Vary from individual to individual
Rules also get refined
With the experience of the players
There are no restrictions to employ
Any method as both the players
Are determined to be the loser
Duration of play depends again
On the individuals
The game ends
Most often to the satisfaction
Of the both the players
In other games players declare
That they are retiring from playing
There is no retirement in this game
As players advance in age
They understand it is more a mind game
Outcome of this game
Are further more players
You guessed it right
It is the game of love
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Anyone For A Game of Tennis?
Strawberries and cream at Wimbledon
that means games delayed by rain
no winners then from the U.K.
as Federer or Nadal win again.
Very loud screams from Sharapova
the umpire high up in his seat
fans queuing up for hours on end
just to see another Brit get beat.
Famous faces in the crowd
Cliff Richard is always there
their the only ones who can afford it
because it's a sport for the millionaire.
When John McEnroe used to play
he would swear, moan, and whine,
throwing down his racket he'd shout,
'You cannot be serious, the ball was on the line.'
At least it was fun and lively back then
when McEnroe, Nastase, and Connors did play
now there aren't any real characters
there mostly boring, dull, and Grey.
But good luck to the Scot Andy Murray
let's hope he can lift that big Tennis crown,
then he can have a big smile on his face
instead of his usual miserable frown!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Sounds From The Baseball Field
Batter in the home place,
That was nobly done;
Try and get the first base-
Run!
Run
! RUN!
Ah, there, short stop, will you miss?
Hear the people cheer and hiss,
Hear them yell and shout.
Twinkling legs and flying feet-
(Oh, I wonder who will beat!)
Faster, faster, out!
Umpire, umpire, go along;
That was wrong, sir, that was wrong.
Pitcher pitches, four balls,
'Take your base, my man.'
Toward the second now he crawls-
'Steal it if you can.'
Oh, the ball has gone so high,
Can they catch it on the fly?
Ah, there is no doubt,
He will get his third, I vow-
Pshaw! the ball has got there now,
'Two men out!'
Umpire, umpire, that was wrong;
Go along, sir, go along.
One man on the first base,
Not a single run.
Boys are warming to the race-
Now look out for fun.
Pitcher's arm maybe is tired;
Batter sudden seems inspired,
Grounds the ball to win.
Run there, run there, run your best,
I am screaming with the rest
'Two men in!'
Umpire, umpire, go away;
Dead wrong, dead wrong, sir, I say.
What's the matter now, pray?
Taking breath, that's all;
But the restless people say
'Play ball, play ball.'
One ball, two strikes, two balls-'Foul.'
Umpire calls, and people howl:
'What is he about?'
Run, run, run, run, Run,
Run
, RUN!
Half the inning now is done,
'Three men out!'
Umpire, umpire, go along;
You are always, always wrong.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Childhood Memories Four: Dances With Gravity
down the rabbit hole
of childhood memories
we tumble into lost world
watching Father chase white butterflies
which eat our growing cabbage leaves
with a tennis racket with foot work
leaps bounds serves volleys never seen
upon famed centre court at Wimbledon
butterflies fly float move in fluttering
unpredictable motion dances with gravity
overcome baiting my father into youthful
dances on past childhood hot summer days
this game I too played mastered but why
so rarely in retrospect such fun so seldom
played among a host of unpattented games
to up the stakes for mass extinction Derris
dust sprinkled on cabbage leaves discolours
leaves white butterflies land leave unabated
but knocks out the sucking and chewing
insects for a six at caterpillar dinner time
when rain has not washed powder sprinkled
off cabbage leaves alas it is a no-win game
set upon set waiting for new service white
butterflies as they fly in from neighbouring
gardens the game goes on until we tire or
new balls spread danger word signaling with
broken garden bodies in game we can't win!
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Marriage Anyone?
The song says: "Love and Marriage"
Go together like horse and carriage
But, that is in the very beginning
When there is time and reason to sing
Soon the ties that bond begin to fray
And become weaker and fragile each day
What was adamant admiration,
Now becomes mutual toleration
Marriage now is like a game of tennis
A winner and loser being the premise
The players begin to keep endless score
Me wants less -- she always wants more!
Love is nothing and no use
As the players call deuce!
poem by Marshall Hahn
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A Ritual of Victory
Out on the playing arena long about now,
Two teams are competing as if they are on trial.
Cheerleaders are entertaining with a new style,
Holding the attention of the crowd for a while.
The fans are cheering as loud as they can.
The players are inspired by the music of the band.
The scoreboard lights seem to blink at will,
The victor's final score is bright and still.
Shortly after the game, they'll all come in,
The players tuckered out, the coach with a grin.
Proud of their victory, they'll scarcely wait,
Specially if the post game ceremony is late.
It may be football or soccer or any other game,
A ritual of victory is basically the same.
The players huddle together and in unison say grace.
Wonder who is standing in my old place.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Big Balls
Im ever upper class high society
Gods gift to ballroom notoriety
I always fill my ballroom
The event is never small
The social pages say Ive got
The biggest balls of all
Chorus:
Ive got big balls
Ive got big balls
And theyre such big balls
Dirty big balls
And hes got big balls
And shes got big balls
But weve got the biggest balls of them all
And my balls are always bouncing
My ballroom always full
And everybody cums and cums again
If your name is on the guest list
No one can take you higher
Everybody says Ive got
Great balls of fire
Chorus
Some balls are held for charity
And some for fancy dress
But when theyre held for pleasure
Theyre the balls that I like best
My balls are always bouncing
To the left and to the right
Its my belief that my big balls
Should be held every night
Chorus
And Im just itching to tell you about them
Oh we had such wonderful fun
Seafood cocktail, crabs, crayfish...
Ball sucker
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Game Of Fame
'GOLF-THE GAME OF FAME'
I was watching this golf tournament through the visitor's window
The opening pairs were standing under a big tree's shadow
I had been waiting here to see
Who shall the winner ultimately be?
My two sons were participating, and were outside
There were competing against each other, side by side
First session ended, and the players are now in the second half
I was watching them through the window, including the club staff
Everyone was trying their very best and hard
Well it's not an easy game, just like playing cards
I saw some players taking a short nap
This was some relief time for them and for I, after a gap
The third session of the game goes worst
Till the end of the game, we didn't knows who will be first
The game has begun to ooze
I was still watching them through the window, "Who is go'na loose? "
My two sons were slowly picking on the game
My thoughts were, "Who will earn the coveted fame? "
Opponent players were also moving off at last
I saw my younger one ‘playing pretty fast'
My elder one was rushing down the lane
Why his game slowing down the lane
The competition has become intense and difficult to bear
So, the victory time is getting close and near
Now the game has become fast enough
Oh! My younger son has now found a fluff
Players have now quickened and have hurried by
They seem to be working fast, as if to fly
At last, someone has to be won
Nobody else, it's my younger son
I was watching this golf tournament through the visitor's window
The opening pairs were standing under a big tree's shadow
BY SAMRA HAQ
Got You By The Balls
Hey mister businessman
Head of the company
Are you looking for a lady
One who likes to please?
Hey mister businessman
This one likes to tease
With a special service
In french quantities
But she wont sacrifice
What you want tonight
She wont come across
Unless theres money in her hand
And shes calling all the shots
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
Hey mister businessman
High society
She can play the school girl
And spank you all you please
But she wont sacrifice
What you want tonight
She wont come across
Unless theres money in her hand
She dont go overtime
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
(kiss your balls goodbye)
Hang it left, hang it right,
Got you by the balls
Got your shorts, got your curlies
Got you - by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
Yeah, yeah
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Football - The most beautiful game
After stepping into the field
there is no way out
even before you start the game
you hear the fans shout
The players then sings their anthem
its football......
the most beautiful game.....
And when the whistle blows
the crowd starts their roar
in the 90 tensed minutes
the players got to score
Football is friendly only in name
because friendliness is not meant for football....
the most beautiful game....
So when the hard tackles go in
and injured fellow goes out
the crowd becomes furious
and starts to shout
Even after breaking one's leg
there seems to be no shame
because its football....
the most beautiful game....
God's miracle
Say not
That this is just a game.
As I watch the little boys play
After a heavy school day
He goes straight to the field,
And there he is in his element
Raising up the dust
As he scores that goal.
Say not
That this is just a game.
As the boys make their football
Collecting plastic from the dumps
And cutting ropes that were washing lines.
As the boys create a pitch
Or just play on the road,
They take sticks or stones
And they build a goal.
Say not
That this is just a game.
As these boys return home at night
Return to be whipped after their delight
The ball will be smashed,
The plastic seperated from the rope
And the field will be taken.
To the farmers and goat herders it will be given
But the boys collect themselves, with undying determination
And they go back to playing football.
Say not
That this is just a game.
As the scout sees that young player
And he is sent to England
Maybe he will play with Man U or maybe Inter.
He sees a world far from home
From sunny rays to raindropp beats.
Say not
That this is just a game.
As that girl plays on the boy's team
She raises rumours,
As people see her and say she will not marry
She drops her bucket of water and goes to be goalie.
The boys boo and make fun of her
But they know she is a very good player.
And she is an example to other little girls
Who long for that ball and not for pearls.
Say not
That this is just a game.
As old men sleep in bars
Just so they can see that match
Of their favourite English team,
And when they reach home their angry wives will ask
'What will that team give you if they win? '
The men will go to bed silent
But their minds know the answer
'They will give me pride, and honour.'
Say not
That this is just a game.
As the world cup starts
Linking whole nations.
And in that stadium
There is no such thing as rich, poor, colour or religion.
Because everybody will mix
As they go to cheer their country,
And their players from Eto'o to Messi.
Say not
That this is just a game.
When that player has the ball
At the box for a penalty
And it is the finale
When all hearts will stop.
And all breaths are held.
And when that goal is scored,
Each cheer is louder than the next
Every person with smiles so big
Both in the stands and on the field
There stand a connection of confusion,
But also true happiness.
Say not
That this is just a game.
When the team will hold that cup
And the whole country becomes a champion
Every man, every woman, and all the children.
It's name goes down in history
And it will be known as a cup holding nation.
Say not
That this is just a game.
No, this is football.
This is God's miracle,
To that little boy and girl
To that man who knows the answer
To not one but all,
And to you and me as well
Say not
That this is just a game.
For this, this is football!
poem by Mariam de Haan
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The National Game Of Australia
The National game of Australia is Australian Rules Football
And the Aussies who love their game say 'tis the greatest game of all
Soccer, Rugby Union and Rugby League and Cricket have their roots elsewhere
But no truer Aussie sportsman than an Aussie Rules footy player,
A game born on Australian soil it surely is Australia's own
And the legend of great footy players in their deaths has even grown
In September at the famed M C G in Melbourne on A F L Grand Final Day
Close to one hundred thousand people flock to watch Australia's best teams play
Though many like both codes of rugby and cricket and soccer a game that is played Worldwide
Australia's National game is Aussie Rules to many that's a source of pride
The National Game of Australia and it's great claim to fame
Is that it was born and bred in Australia and is the only true Australian Game
And it surely is a true Aussie as Aussie as can be
And though some others may like introduced games far better with what I say many would agree.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Be an umpire
Players watch the game they play.
The umpire watches the game.
The audience watches the game.
The staff watches the game.
Their emotions and reactions vary.
Being an umpire is the best option.
30.04.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Woman Five Doors Down
The woman five doors down tells me her son Ted is the best player in the school football team
And that one day he will play in an A.F.L. Grand Final and that more than once of late she's had this dream
Of watching him receive the Coleman medal for best on ground on football's biggest day
Watched by well over ninety thousand people who cheer him on with a loud hip hooray.
But locals who know of football and watched Ted play say he will never play at the top grade
That he won't go down Swanston Street in the back of a lorry
to loud applause in the Grand Final Parade
They say his mother greatly over rates him and that in his team he's just an average player
And that not one in his club will play A.F.L. football with good under age players they do not compare
Ted's mother believes her son will be a football hero and she seemed so convinced that she convinced me
But others who have seen him play say different and with her opinions they do not agree
They say that she will end up disappointed that her dreams for her son will not come true
That he won't make a career out of football another line of work he must pursue.
The woman five doors down tells me her son Ted will one day play in the famed M.C.G.
And be the hero of a great Grand Final in a game that will go down in history
And though others seem to think that she's only dreaming I hope her son will be a football great
And that she will applaud him in the Grand Final and the football fans his name will celebrate.
poem by Francis Duggan
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God Works in Circle
a ball lover
is our god
a soccer player
he is
the whole universe
his field
the planets,
the stars,
our earth
all shuttling
through space
like balls
shove from
one corner
to the other
our heads,
our eyes,
the balls
that the gods
give us
to play
all
the games
in his world
the moon
in its
lunar journey
round and round
good and bad
too come
in a circle
what goes around
comes around
kindness begets kindness
do bad and
it comes back
in a circle
cos our god
is a lover of
a ball game
start walking anywhere
in the universe
and you get back
to your own place
cos our god
loves the circle game
the circle game
the circle game
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Maybe, one other match better; but if you look at the tournament as a whole, I played very high quality tennis for seven matches and raised my game when I needed to.
quote by Richard Krajicek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Balls One Clock
1 Football game playing on Fox,
Has 1 quarter back with 2 balls, one clock
Against 22 balls running after
1 football running with a cock.
Can the team with the most gowl,
Take the 1 ball and win them all?
I don’t know,
But what a show
In the stadium at Chicago
70,000 nuts and all of them dicks,
Paid to freeze as popsicle sticks.
Half the audience is men with only 2 balls,
Saying can we make it to the Super Bowl?
Looks like I guess not,
Because all our balls shriveled up,
Green Bay really one us by a long shot!
By Christina Sunrise on Jan.23,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Let Us Learn How To Play!
Life is a game,
Full of anxiety,
Full of excitement,
Who is the player?
I, you and we are players
if we are all players,
for what we play?
For what we have to play?
For money or name,
Or to gain some toys
to feel only more pain?
We take nothing at the end,
trophies and medals,
will not have meaning,
why we run here and there,
Jump and hop,
laugh and weep, Why we strive to win?
We never know causes,
Whose effect is this life?
We don't know our cause here,
And we talk of causes!
What cause may take us where?
Useless to think, just play your game!
Find the player
who play and enjoy all alone,
Creating own ground and arena,
He plays and enjoys the game,
so many things bring us shame,
Our own thoughts and deeds,
Who is enemy of us greater than these?
Let him play his game,
Pray him for rest,
sit and meditate at his feet,
Or get the yellow card for wrong play!
Anyway find a way to sit aside,
Let others play,
let us rest a while,
Watch and learn how to play!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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