Best Calif Poems

Hark, hey Harold,
the Angels sing....
glory to the homerun king...
piece of turf,
with bases wide,
runners steal,
when pitched inside,

Come ye bunters,
drop one down,
see if we can win
the division crown

Piece of bleachers,
crowd gone wild,
all because of
the runner's glide

Hark, ol' Harold,
get some franks,
and give to heaven
your heartfelt thanks!!...

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