Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.18.105.157

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

Spring has sprung, the fields have turned green;
He walks to the sunshine and stands on his dream;
He grew up in fields of brown earth and sweet hay;
But the ones he loved best were the fields made for play.
He thinks of his dad out driving his Deere;
He whispers, “Mom I love you, wish you were here.”
He salutes for his brother in a land far away,
Protecting our freedom, his hero in every way;
The butterfly’s grab him in the pit of his being;
It’s really sublime all these sights he is seeing;
He’s wished for this day from five years old;
He turns where he’s at, as the moment unfolds.
Looking up at the flag, waving in the breeze,
His mind wonders back to the fields of Albert Lea.
Never a happier day in the sun,
Then when the crops were all in and the game it was won.
Like cows to the barn the crowd ambles in.
Slowly the din rises as a crescendo begins.
Calmed by the noise and the business at hand,
He loosens his body, focusing his mind on the plan.
There’s banter and chatter, then a teammate to call,
“Hey! Let’s play catch, you got a ball?”
Soon he is limbered up loose, and ready to go;
A sprint to the steps and into the dugout below;
He paces the floor, awaiting the call;
Then the voice on the P.A. welcomes them all.
Leading off the left fielder Harding Clay! Leftfielder Clay echo’s away;
Harding, what a name, though it sounded just great to him today.
He removes his cap and faces the flag;
The anthem rings out in tones bright and glad;
It happens each time and he’s not sure why;
He can’t make it through without tears in his eye.
The awesomeness of it all envelopes his soul;
He silences the noise, regaining control;
The great race to become the champions of Fall;
Begins with the two sweetest words he’ll recall; 

Play Ball!

August 13, 2019

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required