Funerals can truly be augmented by a poem that is apt and fitting for the person you have just lost. The following list of funeral poems about tennis are perfect for those that enjoyed the back and forth of tennis, either on court or in the crowd.
Game, Set, and Match
by Michael Ashby
I always dreamt of winning Wimbledon
And lifting the trophy on centre court
But the highest umpire has called me out
Sorry, but it’s game, set and match, old sport
I’d love – 15 minutes more… to ace strawberries and cream
I’d love – 30 minutes more… to be served more champagne than I aught
I’d love – 40 minutes more… to rally with you all
Sorry, but it’s game, set and match, old sport
May The Net
by Daniel Mark
May the net always be friendly
May your serve always be true
May your strokes always be quicker
Than the shots hit back to you
May your feet always be moving
May your muscles not get sore
May you play this game you love
For now and evermore
Tennis Elbow
by Mark Gregory
Sometimes I go out there
with a bowl of balls
and practice my serve,
believing, foolishly,
that a well-struck lob
might climb into the sky
and disappear
over the back fence
like a child in a fairy tale
leaving the king to mourn
and the queen to have
all the fun with the
handsome prince.
Even if I could manage
a topspin forehand
or a wicked cross-court
backhand with my eyes closed,
it is unlikely
that anyone would see
this silent exhibition,
but I keep on practicing
because what else
can I do? Just the word
“tennis” gives me a great lift.
I go out to the court
and belt the ball around
the way I always have,
imparting spin
to a ball already
spent and going nowhere.
I leap into the air
and for a moment
hang suspended in sunlight
like the model
for the bronze statue
of a man on a mountain
in the courtyard
of a medieval castle.
Then the ball
comes back into play,
and the game resumes.
I can even practice
by myself at night
on the illuminated court
as long as I keep
a sufficient number
of balls in the air.
If I stand here long enough,
someone might come along
and pick up a racket
and hit a few balls
over the net to me,
though I never count
on this happening.
It is always a surprise
when someone appears
out of the twilight,
like a visitor
who wanders into the back
of a painting by
Hopper, someone who knows
how to play tennis
and who stands ready
to take my serve
or send a lob
over the back fence,
causing me to turn
and watch it rise
higher and higher
until it disappears
altogether.
The Tennis Players’ Prayer
by Brian Bilston
Our Federer, which art in Henman
Lew Hoad be thy name
Billie Jean Kingdom come
Thy Wimbledon
On Earth as it is in Henman
Give us this day our Perry, Fred
And forgive us our Samprassses
As we forgive them that Samprass against us
And Lloyd us not into tense tie-breaks.
But Rod Laver us from Ivanisevic
For Billie Jean is the Kingdom
Evonne Goolagong and the Cawley
For Evert and Evert
Amen
To access our full list of funeral poems, click here.
All poems featured on this website are free to use during any ceremony, although it is good practice to make sure the author is mentioned, if known. Should you require a celebrant for your ceremony, be it a funeral, a wedding, a naming ceremony or something else, feel free to get in touch. I am a double award-nominated Family and Funeral Celebrant covering the entire UK, and would be happy to help you commemorate in a meaningful and personal way.
