Tonight I find it very hard
To write a little verse,
Because this day is history,
Could never be rehearsed.
When the sunrise came to us,
And we were so uptight,
Did we ever realise,
Our huge pride and delight.
As the evening shadows fell,
Across that hallowed turf,
Two men stood there head to head,
They would have played 'til they were dead,
As we sat here with growing dread,,
Lethal serves flew over head.
Andy up two sets to one,
Oh please do it hallowed son,
Still we sit here wanting more,
Point by point we watched the score.
Joe Wilfred Tsonga made him play,
That lovely man, what a display,
Will he hit back?
May he fall?
At this point was hard to call.
Four games all, came and went,
These two men were still hell bent,
Getting dicey, feeling icy,
Still the weren't content.
Then the tide began to turn,
Point by point we watch and yearn,
For our dear man to make the break,
In order for this match to take.
Nerves of steel, muscles hot,
He finally hit the lethal shot,
To take his place in final spot.
So for the people of Dunblane,
Whose lives were ripped apart with pain,
I hope tonight that you find joy,
And celebrate your wonderous boy.
Your town lives on throughout the world,
You lost so much as life unfurled,
So now we hope his win today,
Will sprinkle stardust down your way.
Andy Murray 2012 Wimbledon finalist.
By Teresa Joan Pound. Wonderful