A Letter

Dear Racquet,

I was quite reluctant when we started.

You, a long shaft with an oval header,

Me, a fat head, fashioned in feathers.

Amazed by your rudeness,

I clenched myself into a struggle, and

Be in the game, the fight, the juggle.

But this game, a great gambler,

Turned my ramblings into cold cinders.

They say you are mean,

They call you ignorant, but,

I swear to God, you're a beauty

With your aura, an enchantment.

Your tough look, I can bear it all.

Your sleek style & your patience

A wonderful sprawl.

So no matter how hard you hit me

I'll keep coming back to you.

Every time you knock me down,

I fall & I'll keep falling for you.

Our match is a mismatch,

They say we can't be together.

I am wounded when I'm smashed

Through your mesh as hard as leather.

But no third line toss 

Can blow my love in the air,

I can land perfectly in your tensed strings

& let your hit be fair.

Neither you can accept my love

Nor can you embrace me ever

But keep sending me away from you

To hide your love against the crowd

Mind you! You're not the only one clever.

With all my honesty I have confessed

My heart, my mind, like my feathers at stake.

I'm waiting for your silence to break

like ripples on a blue lake...

Yours as 'tis always meant to be,

Shuttlecock