David Smith's Poetry Corner

E-mail - david@anvil.free-online.co.uk

A Pool players luck

He plays all his shots with lots of pluck,
Such a pity he relies so much on luck.

His friends cheer all that goes his way,
1 only feel dismay.

His cue swings wildly to and fro,
Not even he knows where the balls will go?

His form comes and goes in uncertain patches,
He often loses winnable matches.

He amazes all, who share the Pavilion,
With some shots that are one in a million.

1 remind myself not to get uptight,
1 know that next time will be my night.

Maybe 1 should check out my attitude first,
Before 1 believe of him the worst.

He comes across and offers his hand,
And says today my luck was grand.

1 realise he's just like me,
And does not take such things with glee.

In the next round 1 hear a call,
His opponent fluked the black ball.