by Thelma Parker
Tom Martin can really throw the ball,
And I think, but I’m not sure, that Tom is kind of tall.
If Tom Martin ever goes, I will cry.
That day will make me want to die,
I will not lie.
Tom Martin is like the sun
And I am the earth,
Revolving around him.
Tom Martin is the earth,
And I am the moon,
Mooning over him.
There is no pitcher ever as good as he.
He is in all of my fantasies.
I think that Tom should never get a day off,
It’s the only way the Rockies will ever make the playoffs.
Published in Colorado Rockies, Lyric, Players | Link to this poem | No Comments