The bat is poised to unleash its magnificent fury As the soon to be punished spheroid prepares to take flight In the majestic orbit that is both timeless & startling The hurtling spheroid cuts a perfect arc As it knifes its way flawlessly through the acquiescent firmament Sans reflection Sans protest Sans regret It feels the whooshing poetry Admires its full-bodied trajectory And can't help emitting its wan smile In the heart of the battered ball's descent.
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Posted: Jul 2012
About this poem:
Baseball is in full swing right now and I wanted to pay homage to an overlooked important component of the game....the ball
Whether it's Amish children playing baseball in the ballfield adjacent to their one room schoolhouse, 80 year old men playing softball in organized leagues, a parent pitching to a young son or daughter...a ball of some sort is essential.
Therefore, here is a paean that I composed for the baseball, softball, rag ball..or whatever happens to get batted about.
Comments (5)
Thanks for your comments...Dale