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BARNSTORMING
they lift bats
pound their gloves
chew gum
wipe sweat off their foreheads
proud in their uniforms
overwhelming like ballerinas
they smile and fist pump
when scoring a run or making a play
shake their heads with a wrong call
Barnstorming Boys of summer
moving from town to town
sliding with the hot summer sun
the joy that came across their faces
when slamming the ball
over the fence
the grace how they catch the ball
run the bases
with dirty uniforms
I came early to love baseball
even as a ten year old
I knew how to swing a bat
catch and throw the ball
somehow learning by watching
Satchel and his Barnstorming boys of summer
11 comments:
... so many lessons were learned watching the boys of summer, the fans, the umps, and listening to the play-by-play ...lessons about life and about the game ... good write!
baseball is all that and so much more... this warms my heart, Wayne
Wayne, you really captured it all here. The grace, the grit. An exceptional poem
my love of the game came early on as well...so much fun...and joy surrounding baseball...though i broke my thumb playing first once...
I enjoyed your poem, Wayne! Your enthusiasm and love of baseball are very palpable in this piece.
This sounds like my summers. Nostalgia for me invoked by your words.
A fun capture of the game here Wayne. Thanks!
Wonderful poem about inspiration and action that comes from it, Wayne.
What a glorious piece. So full of passion and vim. Thanks, froma baseball fan.
Greetings from London.
"Pooga Poetry" has been included in the A Sunday Drive for this week. Be assured that I hope this helps to point even more new visitors in your direction.
http://asthecrackerheadcrumbles.blogspot.com/2014/06/a-sunday-drive_15.html
Nice poetry.. this warms my heart.
games are importent .
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