Form: Malaysian Sonnet

It’s back and forth in beautiful game play
With aces and smashes making the day
On perfect grass courts for two weeks a year
Games go with serve until one breaks away
No screams of hate but an elegant cheer
And ladies and gents have nothing to fear
It’s not about race but about the game
And the champagne that’s too warm, too dear
He serves it fast and long, upping his game
Losing points or match here carries no shame
For tennis stands tall with good sportsmanship
Yet volleys bring tension that’s never tame
Backhand, forehand, the damp grass brings a slip
And he’s at match point, will he lose his grip?
Photo by u0410u043bu0435u043au043au0435 u0411u043bu0430u0436u0438u043d on Pexels.com


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