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Couplet Baseball Poems | Couplet Poems About Baseball

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

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Details | Couplet | |

Shoeless Joe Jackson

Shoeless Joe an idiot
and still baseball’s patriot

baseball is his passion
he’s not a subtraction

he was pushed out of baseball
for not being smart at all

lacking knowledge is no crime
remove his name from the grime

Joe Jackson placed in shame
he should be Hall of Fame

I’ll say again he did nothing wrong
He played this game of baseball real strong



Copyright © Robert Heemstra | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet | |

baseball seasons

Baseball seasons here
Starts when summer is near

If the first baseman catches the ball
I hope the ump makes a good call

Eating sunflower seeds
Winning is what we need

That means school being out is near
Until next year                                         



                                     by jake doyle





Copyright © Amy Merrell | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet | |

My Baseball Glove

my Macgregor glove
my other true love

for so many years
taken away fears

you made me a some-body
no longer a no-body

through high school and the navy
when my life wasn't gravy

after the divorce
life took a new course

but then it got worse
another divorce

after the first one
realized you were gone

the catches we made
I will never trade

thanks for playing ball with me
I knew had to set you free

Copyright © Robert Heemstra | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet | |

Not Be Another

Not Be Another

No matter what may be Patriot's Play scheme,
None if it ever would spoil Seahawk's dream
And what appears to me to be amazing
Is having a football that people were hazing.

What unpleasant things to a football could you do?
Making it take a bounce not known to be true,
Or suppose something to football you applied
Which made ball slick after it had dried.

How about discovering a doctored up baseball;
Started to curve and then downward would fall,
After surface someone started to scratch;
Maybe for me they might make up a batch.

What if my basketball was underinflated?
And for a while longer we all had waited;
Ball now was much narrower each shot I took
Even if a free throw or could be a hook.

Who me my friend have an unfair advantage;
To my cruddy character apply a long bandage.
And when in Super Bowl, Series or World Cup,
Should never again be another cover up.

James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
http://www.story-telling-around-the-world.com/Military-Memories.html

PS. Check out military memories above.

Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet | |

The pitch of a lifetime

His life had boiled down to this one moment
Nerves shaking but could never show it

A lifetime of practice to get to this fall day
Always saying goodbye & never getting to stay

The half dirt covered plate at his feet
As thousands waiting to leave their seat

Years of not knowing if he could ever get here
He looks up and his mind never this clear

Cheers all around fade away
Today was his day

He has but a single task
The question yet to be asked

His stance he choose to switch
And from a knee here comes the pitch
		She said yes

Copyright © Chad Weeks | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet | |

Safe At Home

When I closed my eyes and fell asleep in the premature hours of dawn
I never dreamed Your face would be
The next I’d look upon
My vehicle came to rest against the square concrete pylon
And those who found me declared to all
“It appears as though he’s gone”
They said I had the look of peace upon my face so fair
And in my lap my hands were laid
As if God placed them there
Just underneath those hands of mine my Gummy Bears were found
How is it that they rested there
And were not tossed around
You chose for me the greatest dad and mother one could have
And my sister; she’s so beautiful
Will you hold her for me Dad
For all of those that knew me knew how much I loved the game
But they also knew I loved you Lord
And someday you’d call my name
I’m grateful that I prayed the prayer to receive you in my heart
Now I know for sure that heaven is real
And we two shall never part
My final game was played that day as I heard you say “well done”
I ran into my dwelling place
Where I’m truly “safe at home”

Dedicated to RJ Ledesma jr who was called from this earth much to soon. May you rest in the Lord's care till we see you again. October 29, 1992 - September 24, 2011

Copyright © Janice Smith | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet | |

Behind The Backstop

Five- thirty am, wearily she slides her aching body out of bed
Fifteen minutes to get herself together and wake his little head

The sun is peeking just over the horizon and again they're on the road
Her head is throbbing, must stop for coffee, to get in mommy mode

Onto the interstate for an hour drive to another big baseball game
Not making any money, no shoe endorsements, not a hint of fame

Her little slugger ties up his cleats and heads out onto the field
Cheering words of encouragement, oh the many smiles it does yield

Whether they win or lose it is always the same, son you played great
He just nods his head with a whatever grin and asks her what's to eat

Week after week, all through the spring, the routine goes on and on
Relaxing, yard work, shopping, family parties all are foregone

She takes it all in stride, staying so cool and calm
It is just another day in the life of a baseball mom


*Dedicated to all the travel baseball mom's.
  You have my utmost respect. Thank you *  
Tomorrow starts the first of three and a half months of baseball for my son's 12u team which I help coach.

This is a repost

Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet | |

Annual Baseball Poem

Annual Baseball Poem

Sometimes will write poems that can cajole
And what now has become my greatest goal
Is one thousand poems to reach and obtain
Then other poets on this thought try to train.

Why would I want to sit around and wait
When each one of you I want to motivate
And with many readers must beg to differ
Poems will be great never be a whiffer. 

After each poem is down dirty and done
You will have hit a horrendous home run
Or be bright pitcher who has much glitter
Who is prominent after pitching a no hitter.

When out in field no errors at all were made
Waiting for World Series sitting in the shade
And have obtained much fortune and fame
After having played in an All Star Game.

I am totally retired with my reins drawn in
And if I had to do this thing all over again
In my thought may be big hole that will gape;
No one should try again when out of shape.

James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran  

Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2015

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 | Couplet | |

Fantasy Baseball

Tinker Evers and Chance
their double play romance

Ty Cobb terror on bases
also with many faces

if Babe Ruth played today
can't imagine his pay

a D-H for sure
his homeruns were pure

baseball and fantasy
for me it is easy

baseball's my desire
my juices on fire


Copyright © Robert Heemstra | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet | |

Behind The Backstop

Five thirty, wearily she slides her aching body out of her bed
Fifteen minutes to get herself together and wake his little head

The sun is just peeking over the horizon but they are on the road
Her head's throbbing must stop for coffee to get into mommy mode

Onto the interstate for an hour drive to another big baseball game
Not making big money, no shoe endorsements, not a hint of fame

Her little slugger ties up his cleats and heads out onto the field
Cheering words of encouragement, oh the many smiles it does yield

Whether they win or lose it is always the same, son you played great
He just nods his head with a whatever grin and says what's to eat

Week after week, all through the spring, the routine goes on
Relaxing, yard work, shopping, family parties all foregone

She takes it all in stride staying cool and calm
Just another day in the life of a baseball mom


*Dedicated to all the travel baseball mom's.
  You have my utmost respect. Thank you *  

Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet | |

A Summer Game

A nine inning game
for some it brings fame

for others its too lame
and its only a game

so much being paid
some games are delayed

Its a summer game
Baseball is the name

Copyright © Robert Heemstra | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet | |

World Series Wins

Yankees twenty- seven times
maybe some of them were crimes

Cardinals won eleven
taking their fans to heaven

and the Red Sox won eight
I do appreciate

a few teams tied with five
keeping the love alive

Copyright © Robert Heemstra | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet | |

ONCE IT WAS ME

I remember that boy standing there in the outfield grass,
Waiting and watching so no ball would pass.

He was in right field, or was it center or left?
I only know he played each with its own kind of depth.

The emblazoned cap snug against his skull, shading his face from the sun.
The game was all that mattered, even if he was having fun.

The colorful jersey which he proudly wore, with a number on his back,
Showed that he was part of the team, so everyone could keep track.

He waited patiently for a ball to come, so he could make a play.
Sometimes he waited the entire game, sometimes for a whole day.

But he stood his ground like the ballplayer he wanted to be,
Taking his stance, just like the pros he would see.

He would rub his mitt, then gently hold it open over his knee,
When the ball came to him, he was sure to be ready.

Was he wearing sneakers, or proudly putting on his cleats,
He wore bluejeans at first, shedding them for a baggy uniform without pleats.

It was those early years in the outfield where he was taught,
That errors are made, and perfection was sought.

He realized that errors would be part of the game,
Not only in the outfield, but in life all the same.

I remember that boy at each little league game I see,
For in truth I clearly recall that boy...once it was me.



For Oil Painting #4
contest by: Eve Roper
written: 12/12/15 



Copyright © Dan Cwiak | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet | |

DH

April sixth, nineteen-seventy-three
A-L pitchers became bat free

and the designated hitter was born
and those fans did eat a lot of popcorn

Ron Blomberg was the first
that started the thirst

for homeruns and extra bases
as fans showed their happy faces

Copyright © Robert Heemstra | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet | |

Today's Red Sox

two-thousand-four
losers no more

Boston Red Sox
out of the rocks

contenders again
beginning to win

three word series wins
no more Babe Ruth sins

now Ortiz calling it quits
won't send the Sox to the pits

for they're stronger than strong
without doing a wrong

Copyright © Robert Heemstra | Year Posted 2016

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The Lone Boy

As I sat on the cold metal bar,
the sounds of my friends faded out of my radar. 

I observed the boy in the discolored yellow hat who didn't want to disappoint, 
crouching with his head tilted to a certain point. 

He had intense brown eyes the color of a baseball mound,
and unlike the others never made much of a sound. 

On one hand he wore an old brown mitt,
which most likely had been his father's and didn't quite fit. 

I couldn't tell you if he could hit or throw, 
whether he was fast or slow. 

If he had any loved ones cheering in the park,
or whether he had a known trademark.

All I know is he stood out that much was clear, 
with his determined expression and it being his first year.

He crouched in wait the last in the player line,
hoping one day he'd have his moment to shine. 

Copyright © Hannah Pearl | Year Posted 2015

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BASEBALL

Time to head out to Turner Field
I will surley not yield

Everyone knows my team, the braves
Even the ones in caves

To watch McCain hit a homer
And watch Chipper field a grounder

Nothing feels as such
Not a thing can get me going more than a diving catch

The seventh inning stretch
The only break we need, we are ready for a home run catch

The ninth inning is such torment
Waiting to find out which team is dominant

We cheer for the home team to win
If they lose it is like a sin

Can't wait untill the next game
And I know it will be great just the same

Copyright © Zach Aurel Henderson | Year Posted 2009

Details | Couplet | |

love as it relates to baseball

I stand on the plate with the sun in my eyes
the pitcher is ready, a fastball he flies
I swing just as hard as I possibly can
love says "strike one" as I try it again

I choke up on the bat, pull down on my bill
nodding my head, a new pitcher on the hill
it hurls past my chest, just missing my heart
love says "ball one" as the clock again starts

it's the seventh inning stretch, I need the relief
I brush off the dust, no way will I retreat
the coach saunters over, giving a pep talk
as the lines are redrawn on the infield with chalk

the board shows each tally, each inning not close
no intervention from heaven or its holy hosts
and I shut the book on yet, another losing season
I'll still play the game with faith in the reasons

Copyright © J B | Year Posted 2010

Details | Couplet | |

A Rangers' Win

Steven Wright's knuckleball
in Texas took a fall
the Rangers' bats
increased their stats
Wright will pitch again
he might even win

Copyright © Robert Heemstra | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet | |

East Coast MLB

one hundred sixty two games
knowing all the players names
follow scores best we can
west coast games bring sandman
we'll watch the standings 
keep track of innings
after all-star game it ignites a flame
winners will win and losers fall to shame

Copyright © Robert Heemstra | Year Posted 2016