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A Dying Wish

If I had a dying wish Before I take my final breath It would be to enjoy one last day of summer And with my sons have a game of catch The sun beating down upon us Sweating on a sultry summer day Standing on a patch of freshly cut grass In the field where we used to play The smell of cowhide leather Unique to a baseball mitt And the sound of the fast pitch popping In the pocket when it hit Just tossing the ball back and forth Between a father and his sons With trivial conversations About life on all our tongues With the girls waiting on a picnic blanket Under the shade of a tall oak tree And to once again see my smiling wife Happily watching our boys and me Yes, if I had a dying wish Before I take my final breath It would be to enjoy one last day of summer And with my sons have a game of catch

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 5/3/2012 8:07:00 AM
Oh Joe, your heart is in your words. The smell of cowhide leather Unique to a baseball mitt may the pocket of your mitt always hold those boys with your wife looking on. love, Kathy
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Date: 4/30/2012 3:50:00 PM
This one was just great...Enjoyed reading it...It has such an wonderful topic..I am glad that I chose this one to read this afternoon..Sara
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Date: 4/30/2012 10:59:00 AM
nice one! you've captured that father-son(s) bond very well.
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Date: 4/30/2012 10:12:00 AM
Beautiful!Enjoyed the read.
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