South Paw Babe Ruth
Silence hushed, a crowd in awe,
Only crickets could be heard.
Under the spell of the Babe,
They looked to where he pointed,
Hoping to see a home run.
Perhaps the greatest player
America ever-knew,
Would, once again, please the crowd.
But the pitcher wasn't phased,
And threw a wicket screwball.
Babe watched its winding approach,
Eyed it close, took aim, and swung.
Resounding off of his bat,
Unfailingly, the ball flew.
Then, as the home crowd cheered on,
Headed straight for its target.
(Acrostic)
5/19/2015
12/21/2022
Poetry In Motion Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Matt Caliri
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
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