Best Ball Game Poems
When I was a child,
summer at my Aunt Joanne’s
meant staying out as late as it took the sun to set!
And mostly with my cousin Chris,
I threw a baseball back and forth
with exhilaration each time I felt
the impact of Chris having thrown the ball
right smack in the center of my glove.
Chris’ dad, my Uncle Clifford, loved his baseball!
One time I remember
being loaded with the other kids into his old car,
summer wind blowing through my hair,
as he drove us to a game in Davenport.
Uncle Clifford used to play on that same diamond
where he took us to watch that game.
I wasn’t all that keen on it.
But the atmosphere was so lively.
Vendors selling hot dogs, cracker jacks, and candy -
this was my childhood delight!
I am sure I must have cheered
for a team of which I knew absolutely nothing,
mimicking my elders there in the stadium
as wildly they called out their reactions to the game.
In school I played baseball myself,
standing like a statue in the outfield.
It was more exciting to watch my brother Dale from the stand,
those long hot summer afternoons as he played on his league.
It would be at least twenty years later
that I would sit and cheer for a baseball game again -
this time for my son in Little League.
Rooting for a loved one makes the game more alive for me!
Grimacing with every strike my son made;
standing up and going crazy when at last . . .
he knocked it out far into right field!
Glowing with pride that my son’s forte was as catcher
and watching him in all his gear behind home plate.
When I hear the old familiar song Take Me Out To the Ballgame,
it reminds me of the simple pleasures
of my youth,
a time when life was slower paced
and those summer days with my cousins.
America’s pastime, which has trained so many kids
to love being part of a team,
now seems to take a back seat to that rowdy sport called football.
But give ME a game I can follow,
a game that through time I came to love.
My Uncle Clifford has since passed away;
oh to spend one more day with him
at the old ball game.
Being the shortest in my high school gym class
Attempts to play basketball brought no success
Broke my finger while trying to catch a pass
Leaping to take balls from tall girls? What a mess!
Always loved football, baseball and soccer too
But in basketball I succumbed to defeat
Just couldn’t get into it, that is true
Till Dad took me to see the Miami Heat
Startled he was, watching me jump up and down
Although my enthusiasm was contrived
The cheers of other fans my loud voice did drown
This was the last time I saw my Dad alive
I’m so thankful now that I went to that game
Dad was so grateful for these moments we shared
When I watch basketball now, it’s not the same
It was Dad and not the sport for which I cared
*Entry for Deb’s “Play Ball” contest
“The Old Ball Game”
Due to length of narrative, this poem redirects to Candide Diderot’s “Short Story” section.
Candide Diderot. '26
No medicine cabinet holds a prescription labeled, 'Take two pills for the sorrow in your heart, or to stop the darts of emotion that hits the targets on center.'
That dreaded word 'Cancer' can take control of the thoughts that go on replay when you can't find the stop button.
Most tears look for a hiding place behind the questions that filter in and out of those that do not have the answers.
The Doctor's plan the strategy for the battlefield to get the reign over the enemy. Hope rises to a new level, until, the other team wins. It is not unusual for the player to hear, "Sit on the bench."
The heart watches day and night at the practices as the Holy Spirit prays within, even when we can't.
Jesus holds the *Winner's Flag,* and it is often draped on the shoulders of the one who is carried out of the game by the other players. They have been promoted to the Grandest Heavenly Field with the Coach of Eternal Life.. with NO Medicine cabinets...
Now that is going to be a New Ball game ..
re post inspired by Phil contest
WHOLE NEW BALL GAME
still
rounders
in the park
Watch the big game on TV
Tube-fed what you see
Listen to radio play-by-play
Imagination rules your air-waves
James Wright football poem 'Autumn begins'
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Take me in to the Ball Game
Take me into my room
Just switch on the old-fashioned radio
For a taste of the game, it's the best way to go
'Cos it's write, write, write a new poem
As you cock half an ear to the game
For it's one, two, three stanzas -- Cubs win!
Type your password, proceed to log in
stifling afternoon
over fence grand slam home run
sunburn washing car
8/29/2021
Went to a ball game; sat in the stands
With my husband, my kids and of course, with the grands.
The weather did dazzle, there was a soft breeze;
Delightful to have weekend outings like these.
The pitchers, the catchers, the swing of the bat,
The sun beating down on the brim of my hat.
My grandson beside me, absorbing the scene;
His sister enjoying the change of routine.
The popcorn, the pretzels, the sodas, the fries;
The choo-choo train ride as an added surprise.
The day was a joy, for the national sport
Was a hit for us all, I am glad to report.
In a quiet trailer park,
Just a short walk from the middle school
Where we all felt our way
Through literature, science and math,
Often silent during the worst –
Passing, but only with average scores
Our hearts were full of touchdown dreams
Moments, startled awake by the echoing
Laughter and peace – seas of smiles,
Trembling promises of the ten yard line,
Then, the fumble…
Playing throughout the evening,
Yearning for June, summertime broken
By the short stabs of thunderstorms,
Rain falling, kissing away the breathless
Promise from morning’s light, easing
Its way from golden to gray, from tender
To awake like the shaky huddles
Trailers, thin walled and easily injured,
Like bones who fall beneath the scrambling
Starry eyed – wistful and just breathless
Tackling the edge of insanity
With two hands, two arms, two – hopeful
Winning – it isn’t sinning…
Winning, running on the field who holds
Hopes and dreams, fantasies…
Blessings to hearts who know, even though
Trailer parks don’t shout success,
Often, that football field spells the best…
Champion, leader … the score of a winner!
Don't be a football,
Thrown and kicked down the field
Like rocks of nature;
Rather, be a bouncing ball
Sowing and reaping life's goals
lifes a team of dreams
moving up its theme
got part this thing
to get what it brings
this goes for all
who throw the ball
and look for fame
LIFES A BALL GAME
this is my thing
its what sucess brings
to watch the frist swing
its my aim
to catch the win
my team is in
i 'll be there to cheer there fame
and make the call
GOING TO THE BALL GAME
it up down and around
this from city to town
young or old
you must have a goal
build your self like none els
a good name
LIFES A BALL GAME