Baseball Quatrain Poems | Quatrain Poems About Baseball
These Baseball Quatrain poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Baseball. These are the best examples of Baseball Quatrain poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
Homage to Johnny Bench
The greatest catcher ever was
With one hand 'hind his back
Was Johnny Bench. Yep, that's the buzz.
And never did he slack.
He broke ole Yogi's home run hits.
"The Little Colonel"'s claim:
Three hundred eighty-nine and gets
The Baseball Hall of Fame.
His Cincinnati Reds they won
Four pennants in the League
And twice the Series! OK.'s son
Had baseball under siege
He had big hands and he could hold
In one hand seven balls
But more than this, he speaks, I'm told
At charities and malls;
Awards for college athletes;
He writes and sings on pitch.
While teamwork makes a job complete,
A dream made Johnny Bench.
Because of the weather, the game was rained out.
Baseball is something many of us can’t do without.
It’s the only sport we get to see throughout the summer.
When the game is postponed, it usually is a bummer.
For a few lucky cities, they can close the roof up top.
When playing indoors, rain will not make the game stop.
However, in most cities, they have to play outside.
When the rain comes down, there is no place to hide.
It doesn’t matter if your seats are in the lower or upper deck.
If the game is called, they will only give you a rain check.
You have to go home if the teams do not play.
Just come back when the game is rescheduled another day.
Right now, I have an uneasy feeling in my gut.
I want to hold on to my job no matter what.
I blew the save, and we eventually lost the game.
To lose a good lead for any team is a shame.
I have a feeling the management wants to let me go.
They are disenchanted with me. It certainly does show.
The team counts on me to come on in relief.
The hits and runs I give up causes everybody grief.
So what will I do if they want me to go away?
Will I have to try and make up a resume?
I can’t sleep with these worries in my head.
Sorry dear if I am keeping you awake in bed.
If I were to venture a sports analogy,
I'd say life most resembles baseball spiritually.
We spend eons preparing in the dugout,
Then nervously strut out to take our time at bat.
The rival coach directing our adversaries
Is the Father Of Lies and man's false philosophies.
His goal is to prevent us from reaching home plate safely.
His team's minions outnumber us near-infinitely.
The rival pitcher has icy practiced steel-like nerves,
And he's struck out many with foul spitballs and curves.
He pitches things like sloth, envy, greed, media idolatry,
Addictions, “Pro Choice”, perversions, porn and other immorality.
Our beloved Coach whispers to us from the dugout.
HE famously scored grand slams when HE went to bat.
If we listen to Our Coach, and with spirit swing fast and hard,
We'll knock those pitcher’s balls clean out of the yard.
HE knows we won’t always hit solid homers,
So HE doesn’t expect us to succeed just as loners.
We might on our swing just make it to first base,
But the team batters behind us can help us reach home base.
Even though the adversary’s minions outnumber us,
Only our choices will allow them to defeat us.
So with our Coach and team we must stand up,
When the Great Umpire of all calls “Batter Up!”.