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Christian Baseball Poems | Christian Poems About Baseball

These Christian Baseball poems are examples of Christian poems about Baseball. These are the best examples of Christian Baseball poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

My Micke boys

                To be called ..
            ~   Grandma is a Honor ~

        I have been blessed with 4  Grandchildren

       ~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb "  He is God's Angel ~
   ~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~

     For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
       he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
      ~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
 
              Time passed another gift to see
               we are " Mickes" and Loved 
            Our Dad held the title in Baseball 
                   ~  that's how we roll ~
           those children are Grandmas hero's 

       The Irish they love big and Family is everything 
        The brothers will protect the beautiful sister 
              ~ as many lads will be calling ~

        Every time my Grandson hits a home run
     There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand 

       It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs 
           ~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
     either baseball or Art  ~ you shall find your gift given

                These children have been blessed~
                 ~  a beauty to hard to describe 
        If you think not ~~  Take a look at the Mom  
                     That girl can stop Traffic   
                    after raising three and still~ 

          "Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "

     May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain | |

Spiritual Baseball

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!”.

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet | |

Unknown

Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?

Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.

And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.

I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep. 

Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.

And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.

Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose | |

We All Know Better

We All know Better
By Curtis Johnson

Your smiling face will often disguise the rapid and tedious race;
But I know better
Your sweet and pleasant demeanor sometimes displays God’s grace;
But not always, because at times it leaves a revealing trace.
Others may discern or detect things you cannot hide or erase,
Because they too know better

In the language of baseball, it’s good to hit home runs, triples, and doubles.
But we Know better,
Because a good manager will tell you that these endeavors you must not chase
It’s simply because, most times, it’s better for the team if you just get on first base

So if you choose, you can say you are swell and all is well
But I know better
You can pretend things are great and wonderful;                                                                                                  but you know better
I know that you must open up and talk about more                                         than the sports and the weather
I know that you must open the windows of your heart                                      to at lease someone you can tell
Cj01192015

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2015

Details | Lyric | |

YOU CAN TITLE THIS

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Vision blurred
Couldn't see clearly
Everything was like
The electrons on a black and white
TV screen
Clarity I needed
Fast forward
Life in 3D Television
Elevated I was
Looking at life from another dimension
I realized damage had been caused
Exposed to the cold world
I was
Yes hoping to put Life on HOLD
Scared of OLD age
I was searching for a pause button
And try’na rewind it to
The black and white time
When telly wasn’t clear
When vision was blurred  
The Truth was there
In black and white
Staring at it
I was never searching for a pause button
Then
Someone one else was Cruzing,
I had no need to switch lanes
I was at the pace of a black and white telly Knob
I was looking forward and I had HOPE
I would day dream and visualise to the
Fast forward Life
In my hands I hold the Baton
The race was on
On my own I, would try to out run my own shadow
Someone told me not to stand idle, light a candle
Too young to understand
 When the sun went down
That is when my fun Began
And I would run again
That became the name of the game
Fast Forward life in 3D Television
I am again reminded about a beautiful anecdote to my ear
A proverb to my heart
Not to stand Idle
For me to out run my own shadow
I need to light a candle
And not to put life on hold
All I had to do
Was to switch lanes,
While slowing down like a black and white TV turning knob
Because I now hold the Baton
Like the buttons in a present 3D Television remote.
At the push of a button
I am Enlighten
At the Push of a button
I am Brain washed
At the Twist of a knob
I am Enlighten
At the twist of a knob
 I found 
ENLIGHTENMENT

Copyright © Emmanuel Daka | Year Posted 2016