Wednesday afternoons were devoted to sports.
It was off with our tunics and into our shorts.
We looked forward to that time away from our books,
A break from our lessons and teachers’ hostile looks.
From the school we could easily walk to the courts.
Grass, clay and asphalt were the three most common sorts.
Near the courts gum trees provided just enough shade.
We would take cover and sip our cool lemonade.
But the main attraction to me was not tennis.
Instead it was really a tall boy named Dennis.
He played at the asphalt courts adjacent to ours
My eyes were fixed on him for most of the four hours
My partners would curse when I’d miss an easy ball
But I was ogling him; he was graciously tall.
With one swipe of his racket he hit like a champ.
‘Twas obvious he’d had lessons at tennis camp.
His backhand was good but his forehand was stronger.
If only I could hit the ball a bit longer.
I was hoping one day he’d ask me for a game
Instead of treating me as “just another dame.”
Well it happened one Wednesday when he hit so high
That his ball went flying far out into the sky.
It went right out of sight as it cleared the high fence
That was the perfect chance to use my common sense
It was not the first time I had needed to go
To retrieve a ball where tall thistles did grow.
I dropped my racket and ran like a rabbit.
I knew Dennis was slow and not in the habit.
I was proud of myself and beat him to the spot
He was feeling humble and looked terribly hot.
When I got to the ball I grabbed it with glee,
Looked over my shoulder and what did I see?
A broader smile than that of a crocodile.
My heart missed several beats for a while.
“On Friday night will you come to the dance?”
Thus began my very first romance.
