Short Softball Poems

Malevolent
Energyful
Great at softball
A girly girl
Nice white girl...

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a church softball team
disembarks from a truck bed
and hits the ball field...

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Send me elixir back and bless me with the rain
The fruits of the sacred tree and the ointments of pain...

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Hopefully the fly-ball catch
And around the bases dash!
Out for fun and maybe win
Play and play over again...

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Striekouts
On Base Percentage
Foul Ball
Teammates
Batting Average
Averages
Leadership
Love for the game...

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There once lived a boy named Dennis
Who was a nagging menace

He gathered all the balls
That flew over walls

Then threw them at players of tennis!...

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Play as you wish
There are no boundaries
Taste me eat me
I am your dish
Do as you wish
There are no boundaries...
Note.Johny Boy use me as a toy......

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Who is she?
She is a seventh grader
Plays softball
Wears glasses
She lives and loves cheesecake
Chaddar cheese
Mac n' cheese
Cheesecake 
Who is she?...

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This maybe a contest of sorts
But she said I can't write about sports
'Cause it's not funny of late
To see a man's ball deflate 
And have to debate it in court.......Hahahahhaahh  It's still funny...

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Mother mad?
Mother mean?
Heck who cares... have ice-cream!

Mother sad?
Mother afraid?
Heck who cares... on softball team!

Mother weary?
Mother depressed?
Heck who cares... roller-coaster scream!

(Still care deep-down and not on softball team and afraid of roller-coasters!)...

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sextet of birthdays in December -
seven, if you count the precious Lord.
his candle shines the brightest
as each person learns to scoff
at the softball candles that light
their cake, presenting wrinkles
and gray hair, never the nearer
to the extravagant ageless king
who sits above angels’ wings.

12/31/2020...

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You
incinerated me
embracing me like
the inferno of Hades
burning away
my walls
my defences

See my need
within
the depths of my eye
feel my longing
as my body quivers
taste my love
with each fiery kiss

Hear me
cry out to you
in silent pleading
let me not
be consumed
In the smoldering ashes
of apathy...

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POEM 9 THE SPIRIT IS LIVES 


OUR SPIRIT HAS A REASON EVERY 

SEASONS TO SHOW LOVE, JOY, AND 

HAPPINESS TO US ALL. 

OUR SPIRIT MUST PASS THROUGH LIFE'S 

HEART HURT AND CRYING. 

MY HEART IS AS FROZEN AS THE SNOW FALL 

OVER THE LAND. 

IT IS OUR BLESSING TO KNOW THERE ARE 

REASON FOR A SEASONS. 





MR.PROF. JERRY WELLS 

AUTHOR...

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Silence isn’t always an empty space driven between two.
It can be a deeper meaning of understanding.
Silence isn’t always filled with anger.
It can be the lull that speaks harmony.
Silence, It’s often confused with absence.
But it’s presence can fill wounds, 
And heal the worn.
It’s associated with dark and dreary, 
But rather provides peace and upliftment...

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Mothers sit and wait a great deal of their lives
At dance recitals
At softball games
At skating rinks

Mothers sit and wait a great deal of their lives
Outside school buildings
Outside churches
Outside art studios

Mothers sit and wait a great deal of their lives
for some fathers to wise up
for some fathers to return
for some fathers to take their turns sitting and waiting...

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Oh, how I love a good game;
I anxiously await my turn,
And then I make my play.

I also love a good play;
Good scripts, for which I’m always game;
Stories with a good turn.

When the tides of stories turn,
It just makes the play
Afterwards, for coffee I’m game.

On weekends, I love a good poker game; it’s a game that can quickly turn on a wrong play.
...

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I remember those Saturdays in the park
We picnicked and played the live-long day,
As I recall, nothing seemed ominous or stark
I remember those Saturdays in the park,
Softball, horseshoes, badminton ‘til dark
Seems life was filled up with fun and play
I remember those Saturdays in the park,
We picnicked and played the live-long day.   

Written April 2, 2022...

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A sport that holds a special place in my heart, 
A memory that will live with me from the start. 
The day I hit my first home run, 
I knew my hard work was not done.

Hard work, blood, sweat, and tear, 
Poured into the game, as the fans still cheer.
As the end of the season is near, 
I will be playing on the field one last time this year. 





4-8-2021
“Touch and Go” 
Donna Moody...

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I'm from cute boys that
break your heart
to best friends that never
will
I'm from soaking up the sweet summer 
rays
to chilling in the cool 
winter
I'm from a softball hit 100 mph at you
to a hardball hit 0.01 mph at you
I'm from friends who
advise no drinking
to people with whom I 
drink
I'm from acting all that
to getting what I 
deserve
I'm from fitting in
to being a total social 
outcast
to a person never seen...

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why can't i be like any other kid
with a loving family and has nothing bad they did
i just want to be loved by someone like my mom
who would take pictures of me at my high school prom
why can't my mom just let me in
and watch me at my softball game and tell me i'm going to win
why can't she wake me up in the morning to go to school
tell me i look pretty and that everything is cool
that is where i want her at
but i guess it will never be like that...

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