Grand Final

Heroic Sonnet



A packed arena- thousands watch the fight
these revered gladiators now unfold;
the sun is warm, it is still early night
as the combatants enter; eyes behold
bold rippling muscles- minds are set to win.
Their dedicationís tangible, it thrills
spectatorsí tribal instincts- letís begin!
The first hit is a winner, shows off skills
honed fine in years of agonizing pain-
the sculpted bodies, bronzed like statued gods,
advance, retreat; strike fast- and hit again.
When all seems lost- advantage changes odds,
the crowd is yelling fiercely, urging on
two tired fighters, on the bright green field;
the sun has set- the early bets foregone,
all eyes are riveted on who will yield.
The final break is there, the last ballís served-
it is a top-spin lob- in beauty curved.

©Leny Roovers
30-1-2005





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