WIMBLEDON

I could write a poem about you
It might even say
‘I love you’

There would be hate;
A modicum of debate
About whether you were you

Or was it your dead-ringer I saw
Slurping in the arms of granite-jaw
When the forty-love shot was hailed
And you and lover-boy got nailed

TV doesn’t lie my dear;
Only one thing now is missing;
Who was that bastard you were kissing?

All my books are available on Amazon @ http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tom-OBrien/e/B0034OIGOQ/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1388083522&sr=1-2-ent