
fervently they bounce me between them,
their aim never missing;
the incidental sting at each hit
gradually sinking to a dull ache
before the next thwack
reverberates through my traumatised skin
I think back through the years
but I have no memory of hearing
either one of them say
“Anyone for tennis?”
or the subversive reply;
“A ball would make it too easy
so we should use mum instead.”
(They both regret it now
and I believe them when
they tell each other and me
they want to end the match.)
©Jane Paterson Basil
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I don’t know about tennis, but you hit another one out of the park! Excellent!
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Thanks Calen. Yhis poem was the result of a tense day, but things are looking a bit better now – that’s what the last stanza was about…
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It was wonderfully visual. Unique, but apt. I hope you get things all sorted out. What about tennis balls for them for Christmas?
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LOL That’s a brilliant idea! They won’t have any idea what it’s about and I won’t tell them.
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Well the other option is rackets, but those would hurt more when they hit you with them!
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How about paper ones?
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My wish for you this Christmas is that you are no longer used as a tennis ball 🙂
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Thank you. They don’t mean to do it – it’s just a habit now. They each wanted to be the one to receive all of my attention, and they went to terrible lengths in order to acheive their ambition.
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Kids! They never do. They’re too busy being in their kid shoes. I’m sure they love you to bits 🙂
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They do, but perhaps not in a healthy way. I am only speaking of my two younger children. My two older daughters are healthy and responsible.
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I really like this💐😊
And thank you for what you said about my post, it got deleted somehow so I couldnt reply but it means a lot!
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Thank you!
I noticed the post had disappeared. I tried to go back to it from my reader, but couldn’t…
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