Caution: Quills may be sharp Circulation: 197,891,086 Issue: 1057 | 8th day of Hunting, Y28
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Beach Volleyball


by chihuahua__89

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Warm sand between my toes,

Sunscreen smeared across my nose,

Little shade from tall palm trees,

Relief comes from a sweet sea breeze.

I face my opponent at the net,

We’ll play until the sun sets,

Determined, focused, and calm,

Connected to the ball from heart to palm.

When my opponent goes right, I dive to the left,

My moves are certain- fast and deft.

Their ball goes out of the line,

And the ref announces the first round is mine!

Things are going well, but suddenly,

A pesky Turdle has got ahold of me!

Frustration takes hold as I lose valuable time,

The round is theirs, the ref chimes.

It’s time to regroup and shake it off,

Ready again for the final standoff,

Suddenly, I see the green in the corner of my eye,

My opponent is staring at a Kiko balloon in the sky.

I aim at the green Pawkeet though it is a risk,

I feel myself gain Superspeed- lightening brisk!

I easily block and spike with this speed,

When I jump up to hit the ball, I know I will succeed.

The ref calls it- the match belongs to me!

I dance around in the sand happily,

Jump up and down then do a headstand,

Before walking over to shake my opponent’s hand.

I’m called to the podium, so up I go,

The announcer congratulates us for the great show.

When I receive the gold trophy, the crowd cheers,

The sound is sweet music to my ears.

Since I was a little mynci, beach volleyball was my game,

Once I discovered it, life was never the same.

While others go to the beach to relax

I return to the court, ready for a rematch,

Because every sunset that paints the shore

Reminds me I’m hungry for one game more.

And though a golden trophy now shines in my hand,

My heart still belongs to the volleyball sand.

 
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