Another Tennis poem from Phil Poyser

Anyone for Tennyson (de la Mare, Keats, Hardy, Browning….) ?

Wimbledon fortnight’s halfway through.

You shift uneasily in your chair.

You sip and savour your homemade brew,

Mull over the puzzle why we’re not there.

 

No cautious tap at the window pane ;

No knock at the door at the midnight hour ;

No muffled whisper pierces the rain

As squall is followed by shower.

 

But you suddenly think of a call at the door,

Too soft, and you lift your head :-

“Did they come and no one answered,

Did they keep their word ?” you said.

 

Or what unveiled a night-time drama,

A stone or nail caused tyre to ping

And in the blizzard made you brake ?

– Yet no ’phones ring !

 

The covers are on. The grass grows lush.

The ball girls in bed are relaxing,

Counting pigeons regaling the hush,

Which Barker and Wade find so taxing.

 

For this is the weather Des Lynam shuns

And so do we.

Spectators drip in browns and duns.

They’ve paid their fee.

 

No cannon-ball serves, or volleys that thunder,

Or drops exquisite tear rally asunder,

Making the gallant crowd cry out in wonder,

Are seen. Why didn’t the weathermen blunder ?

 

Oh, to see All England

As June becomes July,

And whoever’s at All  England

Sees great tennis – when it’s dry ! –

From the outer courts and the lowest seeds

To Centre Court with its different breeds

And, when rain permits, the royal bow

In All England – now !                                

Lip Service

The latest post from Phil to coincide with the men’s final.

doggerelbanksy

It was my turn to run the Macc Writers’ workshop on Thursday and its proximity to Bastille Day gave me our first topic: the challenge to write a new post-Brexit, National Anthem, more of which later. After tea and the read around of some excellent, funny and heartfelt anthems, we broached the subject of “Tennis”. I found myself starting with the title and harking back to the young McEnroe. I suppose I could have started it with “O young McEnroe is come out of the west*…”, but here’s what I ended up with.

*London, of course

Lip Service

“You cannot be serious!”, was his spoilt brat battle cry.

“That ball was in. You must be blind or a very stoopid guy!”

Back then, line calls were made on a simple puff of chalk,

but now technology has given us the eye of hawk,

whilst McEnroe has mellowed and from…

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Events

Macc Writers’ Phil Poyser has two events coming up.

Tonight (7th June 2017) Phil is guest poet at The Petersgate Tap, 19 Petersgate Stockport for Poetry and Prose from 7:30 onwards.  This is a free event.  Come and read a poem or piece of prose of your own or by A N Other.

On 12th June 2017 Phil is the guest poet at Spoken Word at UBAgene, 61 London Road South, Poynton from 7:30 onwards.  Read your own poetry/prose , or something by A N Other or just come along and listen.

Why I Write by Mike Tetzlaff

Hello, Macc Writers returns today at 2pm in Macclesfield Library with a visit from author Michelle Green.

Below a member of our group tells us why he writes:

Why do I write?

Mike Tetzlaff

I write because I want to tell stories. So I suppose the next question is why do I want to do that? And the reason is simple; I love stories. So actually it’s not a reason at all, it is in fact an irrational desire.

I simply love stories. But love is more than a feeling; there’s got to be a decision to love even when the going gets tough. And of course commitment can be tough – and writing can take a lot of commitment. But the reward is worth it when stories reach as far as imagination allows and plumb the truths of humanity.

There is a kind of therapy in telling stories. A reshaping of past events, relationships, hopes and dreams perhaps unrealised. Embellished with the unknown, peril, conflict, monsters and then you have the perfect recipe, in my book, for an entertaining story. If it entertains, grips, then for me that is a story worth telling, and stories are meant to be told.