“My service is to God, see.”
So begins this reverence to oddly
tennis sounding references, deferential
to a rhyming man's potential
meaning, leaning on an old wooden racquet.
So begins this reverence to oddly
tennis sounding references, deferential
to a rhyming man's potential
meaning, leaning on an old wooden racquet.
See it raised, and hear him crack it.
Think of “Service” in this way.
All the words in use here say
“Zero”. Near you, zooming past
reach, are each and every fast
moving thought you ought not hit,
as if to do so meant to quit
on yourself. At least, that's the lesson
here. The yellow sphere was my profession
once upon a time. This rhyme's in use,
to make my meaning less obtuse
for you to read. Concede the point
that maybe, if you played me, joint
custody of what you see would prove
what it means for you to be “Loved”!
Should someone say such play
“Zero”. Near you, zooming past
reach, are each and every fast
moving thought you ought not hit,
as if to do so meant to quit
on yourself. At least, that's the lesson
here. The yellow sphere was my profession
once upon a time. This rhyme's in use,
to make my meaning less obtuse
for you to read. Concede the point
that maybe, if you played me, joint
custody of what you see would prove
what it means for you to be “Loved”!
reflects conjecture, refined faces
see no need to question the deed,
see no need to question the deed,
for they've been defined as “Aces”!
