Browse all poems and songs in the 'Youth' Category


Bob Dylan’s 2017 Forecast: “With God on Cards’ Side”

By the Village Elliott

Oh, my game, it is baseball.
My home team’s the best,
The team that I root for,
Once league’s furthest west;
I’s taught and brought up where
Redbird fans reside,
Learn the St. Louis Cardinals
Have God on our side.

Learned the game from my father,
Local fan till last day.
Taught me, “Watch your team play, son,
Play the game the right way.”
Watched, rooted, and studied,
Played with own inner pride,
Like I learned as a Cards’ fan
With God on our side.

Have own Hall of Fame Roster
Bat with Redbirds on chest
Diz and Gibby hurled high heat
“Stan the Man’s” still our best
Slats, Pepper, Brock, Cha Cha
Curt Flood’s on-/off-field pride.
My team’s greats played the game right
With God on their side.

I attended first series,
Damn Yanks, ’64.
Teams split the first six games,
Each must win one game more.
Sat with Dad in the bleachers,
Where Mick’s last tater flied.
Final out celebrated
With God on our side.

Beat Damn Yanks for first title.
Old Pete was the gent,
Soon Lou and Babe payback,
In four games Cards are spent.
Split next two, early ’40s,
Wounded Damn Yankees’ pride,
Then they start counting dead boys
With God on their side.

After Second World War, boys,
BoSox dream Cards upend.
Later “Lonborg’s Champagne”
Drink “Impossible’s” end,
But post-Y2K,
Big Papi’s, Sox pride
Twice repay the Redbirds
With God on their side.

Oh, the record book tells it,
It tells it so well:



Jonathan Holder, the Holder of Holds

by Hart Seely

Behold “Hold’em” Holder, the Holder of holds.
His heaters hate hitters, their bats catching colds.
His outings eat innings, as each hold unfolds,
Behold “Hold’em” Holder! the Holder of holds!

Just call “Hold’em” Holder; the lead will be held.
Our enemies vanquished, their loss clearly smelled,
This Holder will hold them, their hopes to be quelled,
Behold “Hold’em” Holder! Our vict’ry upheld!

Behold “Hold’em” Holder; he holds, does not save,
Each new hold unfolding, each game to its grave,
A high-holding holder, their bats shall behave!
Behold “Hold’em” Holder! Our lead shall not cave!

 



Bob Dylan’s 2017 Forecast: “I Shall Be Released”

by Jim Siergey and James Finn Garner

They say ev’ryone can be replaced
Yet every lefty is still here
So I try to play second base
Or third or short or anywhere

.    I only bat .190
.    So my chances do decrease
.    Any day now, any day now
.    I shall be released

They say ev’ry man needs protection
They say you keep your eyes on that ball
The marketing guys aren’t my rooting section
My agent won’t return my calls

.    I’m in the B-game lineup
.    Starting to feel it’s just a tease
.    Any day now, any day now,
.    I shall be released

Standing next to me around the cage
Is a stud too young to buy a beer
He wants to gain the wisdom that comes with age
But I just want to play another year

.    I see the rookies rise up
.    Big potential, play for cheap
.    Any day now, any day now,
.    I shall be released

 



Tim Tebow Debut

by Stephen Jones

It’s Tebow Mania
In South Carolina:
The media frenzy,
Demand for his jersey . . .

Not since Michael Jordan
Has there been such stardom.

But after one Class A homer,
Is Tim Tebow the savior
Of all minor league players
Who dream big, of the majors?

It may sound so corny,
But his answer may be:

A big heart
Is a mighty big coach.

 



Play Ball!

by Tony Puma

Gray rain pours down on/
Burgundy slate roof.

Red, white, blue, bunting on/
Emerald snack-bar hung.

Lemonade cold in/
Clear plastic bucket.

Orange bus on/
Black pavement, wet.

White lines criss-cross, run/
Red clay infield, mud.

Brown patches in/
Green grass outfield.

Golden sun waited-on by/
Purple-clad Little Leaguers.

Yellow rain-slick worn over/
Navy suited Umpire.

Play ball?

 

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