Poem

The Gymnast

She was not a bird,
Yet she could fly;
She had no such things,
Which people call wings.

Up and down she flew around,
Never once touching the ground.
Firmly grasping onto the bar,
She circled it with powerful swings
then swung herself out far.

Mostepanova and Chusovitina;
She tumbled right on, into a Mukhina.
Split leaps followed by Shushunova,
She finished off with a Tougikova.

Somersaulting through the air;
To top all gymnasts with such flair.
Her graceful steps had never halted,
Nor had they even faltered.

Though gentle and graceful
as she may seem,
She had such strength,
which had no length;
And the aspiration,
for sole perfecton.

By: Mei Pheng Ng (24 May 2000)