There's Nothing That a Day of Racquetball Can't Cure

There's nothing that a day of racquetball can't cure

Which summer caused it in a mighty spring!

Perhaps it had some heart in that dear plight

Could help a soul beyond its path like fire.

Borne by the goal's insistent passion,

Joy's sweet view into your random form,

A smile to your soul as the sparkling run—

Smile in the passing of the winter's dart.

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