The Grand Old Game

The Grand Old Game

A Poem by therisa

I find myself
Dreaming of March 1st
When the true sign
Of Spring arrival happens
With the start
Of baseball’s Spring training.

Sounds of
A thrown baseball
Exploding in the catcher’s mitt
As an Umpire calls
Balls and strikes.

Bats shattered
In half
Upon a nasty slider
Thrown by a southpaw.

Managers arguing
An Umpire’s call
Whether it is
A borderline pitch
Or a close play
Called for an out.

Yes sirree folks
Nothing beats
A match-up
Between an ace pitcher
And a powerful hitter.

Each side
Attempts to figure out
How to get
That elusive hit or out.

All the while
I am ensconced
In a comfortable chair
Watching the game
The best way possible
Broadcasted over the radio.

© 2011 therisa


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Reviews

what a nice write and I am a big baseball fan LOL

Posted 14 Years Ago



Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

98 Views
1 Review
Added on January 19, 2011
Last Updated on January 19, 2011

Author

therisa
therisa

Ontario, Canada



About
A pre-op transwoman, writing about my experiences, using free verse. Been told my poems are very emotional and personal, almost like a diary entry in verse. If you want to friend me, please review.. more..

Writing