In a world where paddles slice the air like whispers of dreams,
Where laughter echoes on courts, in vibrant sunbeams,
The pickleball community thrived, a tapestry spun,
With rallies and cheers, uniting everyone.
But shadows crept softly, draping joy with despair,
As news broke like glass—our hearts gasped for air,
For fifteen of our own, champions so bright,
Have stepped from the courts, into silence of night.
Oh, comrades and friends, in this game we adore,
You shared every victory, your spirits did soar,
With serves like a ballet, each volley a dance,
You painted our moments, given joy a chance.
The crack of the ball, that sweet, rhythmic sound,
In sun-soaked arenas, where friendships abound,
With every smash and lob, you crafted a tale,
Of laughter and triumph, of hearts that prevail.
Now the nets stand in silence, the paddles lie still,
In the place where we rallied, where hopes used to thrill,
Your absence is felt in the echoes unheard,
In the spaces between us, in the silence stirred.
Fifteen lost echoes, like leaves in the frost,
A family fractured, a life deeply tossed,
For each smile that faded, a piece of us breaks,
In the wake of your leaving, the ground softly quakes.
And yet, dear beloveds, let us honor your light,
In the face of this sorrow, our spirits take flight,
For within every game, your essence remains,
In the laughter and joy that flows through our veins.
So gather, dear players, and don’t let wings droop,
Let’s celebrate life, let’s lift up our group,
Though the court feels unsteady, together we stand,
We’ll keep your spirit alive, hand in hand.
In the realm of pickleball, the game must go on,
For in every heart beats the love we have drawn,
Fifteen may have left us, but their hearts still beat true,
In the rhythm of paddle, we’ll carry on for you.
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