Little ping pong ball
back and forth you go
bouncing over table net
on your way to “pro.”
Poor little white ball
hit with a paddle
once two players start,
it’s on with the battle.
It leaped off the table
rolled under the couch
bouncing here and there
I hit my head, “Ouch! ”
Now the game is over
there’s no right or wrong,
til next time they play
the game of Ping Pong.
Excellent work, P.L....A clever and witty write...Your structure is smooth & flows well..Lot's of potential in that Mind of yours...Keep that pen pumpin', my friend. ~ F.j.R. ~
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lovely poem that. Beautiful