In honour of Wimbledon (just watched Andy Murray beat Richard Gasquet in straight sets – come on Andy!), I thought I’d share with you this very light little ditty, which I wrote at Caerleon last year in Alison Chisholm’s excellent poetry class.
Alison threw us all a (differently-coloured) ball, asked us to shout something as we caught it and then sent us away to write a poem. (By the way, if you click on the link on Alison’s name, there’s a video of her, with lots of great tips about writing poetry and if you don’t want to watch the video, you can read the tips underneath, instead).
My ball, needless to say, was orange – and this is what I wrote:
“Where did you get these orange balls? I’ve never seen the like!”
My date, this sunny summer’s day is office heartthrob, Mike.
He checks the bounce, he lets one drop
(I can’t admit they’re from ‘The Pound Shop’)
Because he’s all ‘air, hair, lair’
And Pimms on the lawn.
He’s not a bad catch for someone born
On the wrong side of town,
Where the only courts are where juries sit
And the only thing served are writs.
When he asked me out, Mike had a bright thought:
“Let’s do our courting on the court!”
It sounded like fun. Maybe Mike would be ‘the one’?
But his whites are too tight –
It’s not a pretty sight
And when he serves there’s an odd ‘bottom wiggle’
That makes me – sorry Mike – have to giggle.
And I call a racket a ‘bat’ –
Oh, he doesn’t like that.
But my very worst sin,
Is that I’m starting to win.
“The sun’s in my eye,” he complains.
“The damn net’s too high – is that rain?
I can’t see these tangerine balls!
Out? I can’t believe your line calls!”
It’s a failed first date
With a ‘maybe’ new mate
And miserable Mike’s quite a menace.
But it’s not all bad news:
I’ve got balls – and new shoes
And it’s turns out, I’m quite good at tennis!
Tomorrow I will be celebrating my 100th blog posting (this is number 99!) by launching (oh how grand that sounds) a little short story writing competition. Books to be won! Open to all! So do pop back and have a look tomorrow.