Long Baseball glove Poems
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Dad was lounging in his chair, the football game had just begun.
Beside him with his baseball, glove and bat, stood his little son.
"Daddy, will you come outside and play some catch with me?"
"Not now, son, I want to watch the game, please let me be!"
"Daddy, will you take me fishing, it's such a pretty day,
And maybe we can have a picnic, if that would be okay!"
"Not now, son, find some friends and run along and play.
I'm scheduled to play a round of golf with my pals today!"
'Neath the tree Santa had left a beautiful, sporty Schwinn.
The lad was anxious to show it off and take it for a spin.
"Daddy, can you teach me to ride? It won't take you very long."
"Not now, son, maybe your Mother can, now please run along!"
On a winter's morn the ground sparkled with newly fallen snow.
The little fellow's heart beat faster, his face was all aglow.
"Daddy! Daddy! Will you take me sledding on my Flexible Flyer?"
"Not now, son, I want to read the paper and stay by the fire!"
Swiftly passed the years, the boy now had a family of his own.
He lived far away - his aged father called him on the phone.
"Son, please come to visit me, I'm so lonely and all alone!"
"Not now, Dad, I'm enjoying my son - a trip I must postpone!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
The Hush of Christmas Past
It came more slowly then.
After Thanksgiving
the lights and decorations
started showing up.
The excitement started to build.
Santa showed up at the
department store, The
ads in the newspapers
were larger, some even
in color. There was talk of
“the list”, and “naughty or nice”.
It was agonizing – waiting for
the night Mom said “OK, let’s
go buy the tree”. The trip to
the back lot behind the
super market, “This one…
NO! THIS ONE!” We carried
the tree - by any means possible -
remembering Mom’s warning:
“Remember, you will have to
carry that big tree home.”
The tree was somehow decorated.
Lights, tinsel, bulbs, each one someone’s
favorite, ribbons, bows, a picture
of the cat. Now the speculation
began in earnest. “Whadaya
think you’re gonna get?”. “OH,
I hope, I hope, I hope”, “But I can’t
tell you, it’s a secret.” We knew there
would probably be sox, some new
PJ’s, mittens – the usual. But there
would also be those other nicely
wrapped gifts – from Santa.
The baseball glove, the skates,
the “un-wrapable” scooters, bikes,
baseball bats, hockey sticks.
These were always brought by
Santa Clause. Santa supplied the
dreams, Mom and Dad the gifts.
We provided the unmistakable
sounds of Christmas morning.
There would be church and a
Christmas dinner, lost amid the
joy of dreams. Dreams of snagging
that line drive with the new baseball
glove, of racing down the hill on
the bike, of Bobby Orr like moves
with the new skates.
The colored lights took their cue
from the setting sun as we gathered
around the table and savored the
sweet, juicy, succulence of Mom’s -
never to be equaled – Apple Pie.
John G. Lawless
11/22/2014
submitted to HUSH OF CHRISTMAS PAST – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Mystic Rose
Walking through the streets of my home town
Reaching for the Memories of days long passed
Seeing nothing of what I once knew
Accepting the fact
That I can never go back
To the time when doors remained unlocked
And no one ever knocked
When a whole section of town converged on one home
A death in the family brought neighbors to your door
There was a sense of community and
Dignity was not a status symbol
Wednesday's the miner rested
In the afternoon possibly at a local bar
While clothes lines decorated back yards
Clorox making it new again
Found a quarter equals five on the pinball unless
She was there
Making three and two cokes a better selection
Baseball glove dangling from the handlebars and
there was no charge for dreams
The park beckoned the wild bunch with a pack of Luckies
Never thinking twelve was too young
And not knowing
The tragedy of progress
Those days when friendships bonded a town
Anger only lasted until the fight was finished
There was a game tomorrow night
Winner and loser going to see it together
And the only real enemy was
TIME.
Childhood
As I close my eyes and drift back in time
The thoughts of being young come to mind
When I was four, people were as tall as trees
Looking ahead, all I saw was knuckles and knees
When I was five, my first baseball glove
Seven was holding hands with my very first love
Eight I can remember my close friends
Family gatherings with most of my kin
Ten I remember the girl of my dreams
Childhood pranks and boyhood schemes
Eleven I crashed my faithful Schwinn bike
At twelve, a black eye from my very first fight
When fifteen came around, timed passed way too slow
Sixteen, I had my license and was on the go
Seventeen came, and High School ended
Joined the military as I intended
Youth has passed, and now I'm much older
Blood is thin, and I feel much colder
But I enjoy the thoughts of my past childhood
Go back in a second if only I could
But realizing this, the thoughts bring a smile
From the time long ago when I was a child
If I wish to return to those childhood days
Only in mind to be stored away
Close your eyes and return back then
The closet of time holds within
A time you once had and will always be
Thoughts of youth are what you'll see.
Lpickard
Copyright © William Pickard
We didn’t have much stuff
We weren’t poor
Or so we were told
Ya got one pair of shoes
Maybe sneakers in the summer
A few “hand-me-downs”
A “cold water flat” in the city
An old black cast iron stove
For warming feet in the winter
Had a baseball glove
Which I protected
Treated with oils
A favorite shirt
Which my sister hated
Probably why I liked it so much
We were fed, clothed, warm(?)
In my early twenties
All, and I mean ALL
Of my “stuff”
Fit into my VW bug
Including the black and white TV.
Today, I have a truck
All my stuff will fit into it
(if I leave my wife at home)
The cuffs and collars
Of my flannel shirts are frayed
My jeans faded in mysteries
I have a lot of NEW stuff
Y’know, like memories
Of kids and grandkids
Stealing my flannel shirts
Lumbering around in my work boots
So, I guess I have a lot of stuff now
It will still fit into a VW bug
For I carry it in my heart
And dream of it at night.
Do you remember when love was more than a four letter word
And holding hands walking down the street
Doing a matinee on a Saturday
Feeling the rhythm of the music in your feet
Playing baseball on an abandoned lot
And how the girls could turn your head
Sneaking that cigarette behind the house
Getting your first kiss and turning red
A nickel bought a candy bar
A penny bought a picture of a movie star
Go for a Sunday ride in the family car
A baseball glove dangling from your handle bar
Do you remember when Mom read us a nursery rhyme
Hey kids, what time is it? It's Howdy Doody Time
The Falcon and Shadow were fighting crime
You could find anything in the Five and Dime
In the drug store, you could get a cherry coke
The smell of the bus when it left all that smoke
Playing chase tag on the street at night
Running through fields, flying a kite
Picking flowers for Mom on the way home from school
Meeting your classmates at the community pool
School shopping right before Labor Day
Saving your money by putting pennies away
In spite of the hardships and all of the strife
Honesty was a way of life
We grew inside from what we learned
We didn't accept it if it wasn't earned
Pep rallies before the football game
We knew each shop and the owner by name
Do you remember when life was innocent
Do you ever wonder where it went?