With swirling serves and <br />Arcing, <br />Lashing loops, <br />The Table Tennis King <br />Of spin, <br />Attacks his foe. <br /> <br />In gladiatorial combat <br />He reigns supreme, <br />Sweeping and swirling, <br />Smashing, <br />And feather-touching, <br />That gyrating ball. <br /> <br />For many hours he’s trained and sweated, <br />Perfecting skills from very youthful days. <br />He started in the youthie playing “Ping-Pong”, <br />To rise, a phoenix, from the local flames. <br /> <br />His coaches now sit very proudly, <br />Having made him sweat and toil. <br />With all that stamina-work behind him, <br />No way will he go off the boil. <br /> <br />At last he stands victorious, <br />Having made that final kill. <br />There is no game like Table Tennis, <br />And winning’s such a glorious thrill!<br /><br />Paul Butters<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/champion/
