A rubber ring sails spinning through the air,
caught open-palmed with practiced, lightning grace—
one hand to seize, the other poised to share
the swift return across the netted space.
No racket clacks, no strings to damp the flight;
the circle spins on wrist and finger’s spin,
a dance of dodge and dive in pure delight,
where every miss awards the point to win.
From South India’s courts the game took root,
now doubles weave in synchronized attack—
the ring arcs high, then drops, a cunning shoot,
defenders leap to block the counter-track.
In tennikoit the ring becomes the star—
catch clean, throw true, and victory’s not far.
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Author:
Matthew R. Callies (
Offline) - Published: March 15th, 2026 00:21
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem is about the sport of tennikoit, also called ring tennis or tenniquoits - a sport played on a tennis-style court, with a circular rubber ring hurled over a net separating the two players. For more context visit https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tennikoit.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
- In collections: 🔥Trending🔥, Sports Poetry.
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Comments3
Although I have heard the name it is a game that I know nothing about. A most interesting write with great composition and flow. Well done
Little context provided by your link.
Matthew, this is wonderfully vivid…you can feel the motion of the game in every stanza. The spinning ring, the dives, the rhythm of throw and return all come through clearly. It reads like both a celebration of the sport and a snapshot of the energy inside the match. Nicely done, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
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