Best Handball Poems

I remember, I remember my garden of joy,                 ...

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Like mother, like daughter
Like father, like son
Like uncle, like nephew
Like aunt, like niece
Like grandfather, like grandson
Like grandmother, like granddaughter
A man to a woman
A boy to...

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Football, volleyball, baseball, softball, 
Racquetball, handball, basketball, hardball. . . . 
There're lots of sports in the world you play with a ball, 
And you...

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1. How can we wear jeans to cover our skin, if our skin is made of genes?

2. If football is played with the hands is...

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I am reminded of songs by the Beach Boys 
who sang of idyllic   summers 
The city beaches are with 
lifeguards to protect those...

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We called him kintu
He had a way with girls
He was a handball player
Kintu had a sway with words

We called him kintu
Kintu ever running after girls
Never...

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I bring you a live commentary match between Sin and Grace

Sin are inches away to the box
Lust shots, Self-Control reacts well and blocks
Longsuffering has been...

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Open spaces on sand, for fun and frolic
Noise of waves, sound sweet as music

Taking a dip in blue depths, curling with tides
Horizon at sunset, orange...

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I remember, I remember my garden of joy,
It gave me great happiness when I was a boy
At the bottom of the garden was a delightful...

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Spent some time 
in the country 
      Forest full of trees, 
lakes full of fish 
    ...

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Young lady, young lady,
curvaceous, outgoing, sassy lady,
with her bright red flamenco dress,
full of life,
full of character,
wearing my "manton" to ward off the chill of the...

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******
you bet
in debt

world cup
shut up

score goal
big hole

whistle
missile

fans fight
not right

refs rule
you fool

corner
warner

handball
false call

false claim
not lame

bad fan
I'd ban

play ball
don't fall

England
win land

sit tight
we might

mighty
Blighty!
******
*****They think its all over,...

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A neighbor since birth,
who knew could be such a great friend,
More than a friend, a sister indeed
She's seen me grow, laugh, and cry and i...

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I was strolling to the entrance of the Barley Tavern,
when I was passed at quite a rate by angry Billy Brown.
He’s mumbling and cursing before...

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This beach without shady palm trees
is the chosen playground of harsh winds,
its sand is drier than the Sarah's desert;
nobody lays on a blanket to soak...

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