Forty all
This is the tale of a horrid blister,
caused directly by my sister.
I borrowed her shoes for a tennis twosome,
and soon my heel became very gruesome.
First it rubbed pink, and then bright red,
and as I played, it bled and bled.
There were pools of blood all over the place
Some of it splashed as far as my face.
I used plenty of bandaids, criss and cross,
and kept on playing, splish and splosh.
I slid and slithered around that court,
never was a game so wetly fought.
But in all that blood, I lost the ball,
so the game was ended, forty all.
My blistered heel was a dreadful pain,
but sister said it was a bloody good game.
Margaret Pearce