The Beauty of Baseball
The diamond shines with emerald grace,
A sacred, timeless, open space.
Where leather cracks and voices blend,
And summer dreams will never end.
The pitcher winds, a coiled spring,
To set the summer air to sing.
The white seamed sphere in sudden flight,
A streak of chalk against the light.
With a wooden bat and a focused eye,
The batter waits beneath the sky.
A swing of power, swift and grand,
The magic wand of summer land.
Then, rounding bags of canvas white,
Beneath the stadium’s glowing light,
They touch the plate and make us cheer,
The greatest game of the year.
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