Self-Portrait on the Squash Court



All set for dancing on the court

I hear waltzing is a new sport,

Painting shots with undisguised glee,

Remembering to seize the “T”.


If body and mind worked in sync,

How smooth without having to think;

Alas, the racket has its say

Causing shock when one dares to play.


Yet, there are those moments that thrill,

Granted they do not overspill;

Where the ball lands as intended,

Ghastly errors quickly mended.


A nifty nick or well-judged lob,

Balletic boasts secure the job.

Ah yes, squash is like chess with sweat;

Deep thoughts, while the feet pirouette.


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Filed under Philosophy, Poetry, Thoughts

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