Love Poems About Tennis or Tennis Love Poems
by Laura Mckenzie |
Categories: funny

It's all in the swing

Who says I’m getting old?
My hairs are not gray
Its beautiful sterling silver
The finest silver around
Who says I’m getting old?
My face isn’t bright red
I’m not having hot flashes
I just have constant sunburn
I love the outdoor
Who say’s I’m getting old?
Not me I’m as young as I feel
Tennis anyone?

by kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr |
Categories: addiction, career,


like know other
they love from above
some have gift
born swift
do it all  from baseball
to tennis  wall
know i did

by Thabang Ngoma |
Categories: sexy, sports,

Too late to resist

My favourite sport
Serena on the tennis court
My ace in a pot
The plate on your stove red hot
Brimming with smells of exotic aroma
A vivacious spicy persona
The makings of a new recipe to taste
I'll be your chef for the night
Fingers clenched like a net
Slave to your tether like a pet
I’m about to play Russian roulette
With a fork and an omelette
Attracted to red, I reach for the heat
It burns too deep, too sweet
Surely this means stop
Boiling I’ve lost my top
And found your spot
In this steamy plot
I love the taste of meat
Marinated in fiery sweat
My taste buds receive a treat
Mouth drooling, body dripping wet

by Stacy Stiles |
Categories: childhood, family, introspection, life, love,

Megan Marie

Beautiful and kind
She does not know
Reasons for hurting
As she rapidly grows 

I remember the little tomboy
Dressed in tees and tennis shoes
Vowing she’d never give into
Societal prissy views

But give in she did
As the child became a teen
Astounding beauty with a purpose
Still trying to remain unseen

My niece and my Goddaughter
A special place already set aside 
For my little boisterous tomboy
Inside my heart you’ll forever reside

© Stacy Lynn Stiles

by Marcy James |
Categories: boyfriend, happiness, love, relationship, summer,

Picnic Love

Up under this tree we found love, 
the sky was looking down from above, 
Love found its way to come between us, 
Everyone's out on a picnic lunch, 
the only food we're eating is love for brunch. 
Peanut Butter jelly, White tennis-shoes, 
back in the old days, you know how we use to do. 
Set back have a mile conversation, 
talking about life and every ridiculous situation.
When we set and talk, Our day is about over with,
then we'll chat and text each other the day after the picnic. 
A beautiful day with just me and you, 
being in love like teenagers, back in High-School. 
Each wind that blow, My love grows closer.
We'll cherish this moment as our days get older.

by Rico Leffanta |
Categories: break up, first love, funny, humor, love, philosophy, sports,

Shaken Not Stirred

"Truth be Told," James Bond opined
Over a pint of Guinness
"Love is just a consequence
of bouncing balls in tennis!"

by David Willey |
Categories: humorous, rude, sexy, silly,

Tennis anyone

Starting with the toss up
I’ve made an unforced error
I’ve only gone and followed through
Squeezed the jissom out the old fella
New balls (and pants) please – love all
I think your ace
With a backhand that’s made for passing
On top of a lovely forehand
With a lovely high toss that’s absolutely smashing
Sure you moan and groan
But I love the racquet you make
Lets have another rally
Are you sure you’re not courting
I’ve a changing room free
If you fancy finishing me off
With a serve and volley after

by Lewis Raynes |
Categories: friendship love, imagination, love,

A love letter to my girlfriend

Imagine being good at one special thing, 
Distinguished in something you do,
When people want perfect done for them, 
Then you are the one they go to,

Imagine being able to pilot a rocket, 
Or play tennis or golf with the best,
Imagine being able to sing perfectly, 
Sing better than all of the rest,

I wish that could be more than imagination, 
More than a thought in the air,
I wish I was great at one little thing, 
And not live as a wing on a prayer,

Hang on, one minute, it just came to me, 
There’s something, I knew it, it’s true,
The one little thing that I’m really super good at, 
Is loving all there is about you.

by Jeff Connelly |
Categories: muse,


words thrown in the wind

love is not a tennis ball

she's a leaf blower

Categories: introspection, philosophy, universe,


                                    ball is always round like Zero's count
                         foot ball cricket ball lawn tennis ball table tennis ball                                 
                              consciously or unconsciously in love people fall 

                                     Stars planets and the earthly ground
                              whole Universe's assumed to be found round
                                  so perhaps with that instinct all are tuned

by mike dailey |
Categories: daughter, funny,

A One Year Olds Shoes

I lined them up there on the floor
One pair, two pair, three pair, more
Black and brown, white and pink
You can’t have too many shoes I think
Tennis shoes for running round
Dress shoes for a trip downtown
Sandals to show off my toes
And that is just a few of those
Some are flats, some little heels
I love the way a new shoe feels
I look at my shoes and think “dog gone”
I wonder which foot each goes on
Until I figure where each is put
I just might have to stay barefoot

Mdailey	1/19/12

3rd place in contest

by Phillip Garcia |
Categories: i miss you, silly,

I Miss You

I Miss You...

Like high school tennis practice after classes
at the midpoint of May; so at the peak
of blurry vision owing foggy glasses
owing a humid leak (of which I won’t speak
lest my knees weakly wobble, side to side,
as they did when Coach Notis would tell us
what failed to kill us - when nobody died
or tripped over lines of his murderous 
suicide drill - was done incorrectly -
which in turn led me to question this 
passion of mine, stern and directly,
returned to me answered configured like this:
Why risk your manhood and furrier balls
for something where love all means nothing at all?).

by kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr |
Categories: fantasy, uplifting,


i admit i do this
not insame
i just love the game
on the floor  can the go
move wall to wall
hitting that ball
it looks ruff
am a

by Rico Leffanta |
Categories: culture, feelings, love, lust, relationship, romance, sports,

All Hands

A seaman  called, "Octopus" Dennis
Was known to the girls  as a menace
A sign from Above
Predicted "True Love"
"But you gotta go out and play tennis!"

by Nakym Sheffield |
Categories: change, life,

Live Life

While my emotions play tennis, my vision listens to help my abandoned soul 
become replenished, change take time, while money is made in minutes, the 
truth is venomously vicious, lies are words or stories told, never finished from 
minds that are wicked and tongues that are twisted, human behavior is inspired 
mainly by tradition, so beware and pay attention and pray for redemption, 
change is a moral mission, that consists of better conditions, men and women 
are different, life is a complicated combination of hate-n-love, so be persistent 
and live it.

by kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr |
Categories: art


it fell  the water fall
it was  a tennis ball
as i recall
i love the game
not for fame
i play againts the wall
until i funish

by Austin Alfano |
Categories: sports


Boxing, a brutal, bloody, painful sport.
This is my life.
I don't spend my life on a tennis court,
I'd rather be in a boxing ring than have that as my life.

Boxing is a game of skill,
to others it's a silly blood bath.
I just love going in for the kill,
then they lay there and I laugh.

Boxing is my crack
I can't stay away.
It always brings me back,
always ready to play.

The ring is my garden
It is my sanctuary.
It gives no one pardon,
In November, December, or January.

Blood, sweat, and tears
goes into the game.
No more fears,
no more shame.

by Mariana pavlich |
Categories: food, sports,

Tiramasu what a divine flavour

Anyone for tennis and cucumber sandwiches?
Gelati and strawberry ice-cream birthday cake.

Six love,  was a surprise ,set,game and match
Sing "Happy Birthday" opening many presents.

Heavenly chocolate, smooth and rich favour..
Friends , Cake and biscuits for Afternoon Tea.

Deep, roasted Coffee, Kahlua and cream..with
Sweet vanilla sugar...I shall always savour

What a beautiful sun-dappled lazy afternoon...
Family,friends,tennis,presents + Tiramasu.

by Ken Bennight |
Categories: feelings, heartbreak, lost love, love, love hurts,

Love Stains

I've loves stains on my pillow,
because I cry myself to sleep.
Love stains on my tennis shoes,
from walking love stained streets.
Love stains on my face and cheeks,
love stains on my hands.
Stains from years of loved stained tears,
I am a love stained man...

by Chuck Novotny |
Categories: love,

On The Days You're Not Here

On the days you're not here 
They serve doughnuts,
Laughter punctuates conversations,
People stock and empty shelves,
And fish are caught.
Friends greet and lovers kiss,
Homes are built, tables are bussed,
Children learn geography
And deliveries are made
On the days you're not here.

On the days you're not here
Lawns get mowed,
Cancers will be treated,
Cars are repaired, jets fly
And prayers are said.
Tears stain cheeks and hopes are born,
Dogs will bark, tennis is played,
Mothers hold infants,
And poetry is written, and read
On the days you're not here.

by PAT Adams |
Categories: character, humorous, imagery,

Stan Keefeat

Stan Keefeet sure loved his old tennis shoes
They did not love him, was not any news
When kicked off
Everyone coughed
With lots of crying and cussing and boos!

by jay del fierro |
Categories: funny, sports,

Tennis Anyone....

Somebody asked me if I
liked to play tennis...
in reply I asked why?
in response,somebody said,
"because you like to serve..."
i suppose then,my answer is yes...
"but you're always losing,30-0..."
i smiled and said,
"no not losing,thats 30-love,
with love,how can I lose....."

by Robert Renstrom |
Categories: absence, allegory, art, aubade, death, eulogy, humanity,

Emilia In Romagna

Emilia In Romagna

Somewhere a lost little girl
Is crying in her bedroom closet
Because she can’t hear
Her mama
Moving about anymore
She can see dim shapes
Mama stored stuff in here
Luggage scarfs tennis racquets
Croquet mallets 
Boxes of old photographs
Apparently not water or food
She can hear the ancient
Transistor radio
Mama always kept on
Pavarotti is proclaiming
His love for another faulty insecure woman
In an opera that makes
As much sense as this
Her disconsolate glissandos 
Ravaged juddered weeping
Rival the maestro
For now
Until later

by Erik lopez |
Categories: love,

My Side

I walk with my partner next to me
along the long sidewalk, the roaring machines I hear
on my left side.
We're silent, our legs are aching from walking.
I'm trying to figure out where to rest.
The park? a restaurant? her house? (impossible).

We go to the park and sat down on the bench. 
People are walking their dogs, playing basketball, playing tennis and such.
I wanted her, I wanted everything she held. 
The day gets darker, the cozy temperature gets colder.
My body couldn't handle it, so we got closer and closer;
our cheeks touch one another, but we don't kiss, we didn't kiss that night.
because if we did, I would've burst into flames.

by Caren Krutsinger |
Categories: life,

The Chosen One

I was thrilled when my boss signed me up for a team building workshop.
Only one teacher per school gets to attend, and it will be me.
I was happy, honored, excited.

Discovering we do not have to work on Friday, the day of the workshop,
Put a teeny tiny little dent in it for me for about three seconds.
I love meeting new people.

Who loves that more than me? Probably no one.  We have been instructed
To wear comfortable clothing, and tennis shoes.  

We were also cautioned to be prepared to fall. Now we are talking!