Kids of different
nationalities gather
every day to play
in the streets of Chicago
once their daily chores are done.
They play with marbles,
scummy top, pitching pennies,
or a rambunctious
game of stickball in the old
neighborhood cobblestone streets.
Children stand and watch;
the pitcher keeps a firm hold,
throwing the tattered
ball, placing it hard right down
the middle of the chalked square.
With broom handle in
both hands, batter swings, striking
the small tattered ball.
With excitement the kids jump,
clapping and cheering, "Run! Run!"
8/21/2017
For the Poetry Contest: Form T
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
On the theme of ............. 1. Tattered
Categories:
stickball, baseball, chicago, children, nostalgia,
Form: Tanka
Time held in his hand,
a shoebox cradled the past,
treasures saved for a grandson.
Granddad's pocketwatch
was tarnished with memories
in an attic of summers.
A family bond,
sun-drenched hours with his granddad
captured through a window pane.
The laughter of kids
was heard bouncing off buildings
as moms called from opened doors.
Favorite pastimes
were checker games on the porch,
hydrant splashing and stickball.
Red, white, and blue flags
waved as fireworks exploded
brightening the July sky.
Days in the city,
meant shows at the cinema
and stops at Sal's Candy Store.
Subways and sidewalks
went ev'rywhere and no where.
Streets were adventures for two.
Grandson and Granddad
running sticks across fences
with smiles and lollipop sticks.
A family bond,
sun-drenched hours with his granddad
captured through a window pane.
Passed down to a boy
were tales of the good old days
from photo album pages.
Cherished memories,
a shoebox cradled the past,
treasures saved for a grandson.
.
Categories:
stickball, childhood, family, seasons, urban,
Form: Sedoka
Summer Memories of Long Ago
(for Frank Herrara's Summer Memory Contest)
Playing stickball in the schoolyard
Roller skating with my friends
Playing hide and seek
Wishing vacation never ends
Saturday at the movies
Where you couldn't hear a word
As Flash Gordon flew through space
(That really was absurd!)
Swimming in the ocean
Waves pounding against your skin
The lifeguards calling you back
When the water reached your chin
Ice cream was a nickel
Comics were a dime
Life was really simple then
Another place...another time
Children everywhere were safe
No one locked their doors
But those of us who remember this
Are known as dinosaurs!
Copyright(c)2006 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved
Categories:
stickball, childhood, nostalgia,
Form: Rhyme