Our feet draw a dance within the lines as the ball makes haste in the sky, propelled by our dearest wishes, aimed by the sports-player's heart. And so this tennis court is our canvas, our feet are rainbow brushes, and what comes of this is a beautiful dance, opponents and best of friends.
We ready ourselves upon the tennis court with the tender grace of true sportsmanship, to make an art of this game, to honour the rules of play, as all who seek fairness do.
The tennis court did welcome the soft souls of all who came to play with honest hearts, beckoning them to rally in the strengthening rays of an awakened sun.
In the amber light of the new day awakened, the tennis court took on an ethereal glow. The sand that may appear so muted in the stronger rays of noontide, instead had a buoyant air, a welcoming appeal.
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