Sam's New Career in Poetry

Sun 7 Jun 2020 14:15
Ode to Tennis - 2020, by Sam Luto.

The girls in our crew wrote home in their native tongue, so I had some mild inspiration to which I clung.
In the absence of any messages from home, I wrote this poem about my one true love I enjoy more than incognito mode in Google Chrome.
T'was the night before Wimbledon and all was calm, we were turning in early having set our alarm.
Dreaming of big forehands and tweeners in the days to come, our bags were packed full of pimms, strawberries and rum.
At 5:00am as we arrived in the queue, we were joined by our friends for a case of beer or 2.
But because the government had led us astray, we made sure that we sat at least 2 meters away.
With excitement levels high going into Center Court, we marvelled at the atmosphere of our favourite sport.
All of a sudden our confusion reached it's peak, as the stands were empty, not a sound, not a squeak.
"We forgot that Wimbledon was cancelled!" someone said, so without thinking I shouted "This sucks let's go sailing instead!"

So off we went and commandeered a yacht, and sailed into Tortuga while the weather was hot.
With nothing but a 5 minute safety briefing and 10 bags of pasta, we hoisted our pirate sails and set off to find our inner rasta.
Nachos, lemonade, my Dad's boat, if we capsize then my rackets can float.
Stranded at sea in our time of need, and all we have caught is more and more seaweed.
Missing home with no messages or calls, longing for that sweet smell of fresh tennis balls.
But we'd be rescued in no time so there was no need to worry, and soon I'll be on court again playing doubles with Andy Murray.
This poem may well end up in your spam, but with any luck it will go viral on Instagram.
Now just before it's time for bed, I have to note that this poem and rhymes are sponsored by Head.