Anyone for tennis?

Another very topical poem about Wimbledon Tennis Championships written by Teresa Harrison-Best

 Anyone for Tennis?

“Good grief, it isn’t raining yet”,
we hear the punters say.
Centre court is fully crammed,
so now they start to play.

His name is unpronounceable,
Sue Barker seems to cope.
The other one has got a seed,
but he hasn’t got a hope!

Rufus has now done his rounds,
to keep the birds away.
Hawkeye stops the hissy fits,
and has the final say!

Strawberries topped with nice fresh cream,
remain the perfect treat.
Hand held fans and useful hats,
to protect them from the heat.

Champaign cocktails chilled and served,
sipped with great panache.
To nibble there throughout the day,
you’ll need a lot of cash!!

‘No riff-raff please, we’re Wimbledon’,
the All England Club proclaimed.
Any sign of midriff now,
your seat will stay unclaimed!

Henman Hill, or Murray Mound?
The jury’s out on that.
Every June they gather there,
and lay their picnic mats.

Should it rain you never know,
perhaps a communal sing?
Keep calm and carry on, they say,
as whinging’s not the thing!

Queuing is an art form,
and the British are the best.
The etiquette of lining up,
is truly how they’re blessed!

Whether aces, slams or double faults,
the atmosphere is wired.
Now stay awake in case they film,
that you were overtired!!

Written by: Teresa Harrison-Best