The Daze of September

by Hilary Barta

Remember the promise of Spring?
In September those memories sting
.    But pros round the bases
.    And go through the paces
Condemned, they must play out the string


Hilary’s daily limericks on monsters, old movies and comics can be found at LimerWrecks.

Published in Limerick, Players, The Game Itself | Link to this poem | 2 Comments

The Daze of September: 2 Comments

  1. Norm Knott wrote,

    Oh, it’s a long while from April to October
    But the hopes grow dim when you reach September
    When the games you’re behind turn the dreams to flame
    Once again it’s time for the waiting game

    Oh, the days dwindle down to a precious few
    September, October
    But these few precious days I’ll not spend with you
    I’ll be watching football and not you

    (with apologies to Kurt Weill)

  2. Anonymous wrote,

    Oh, it’s a long Weill from Norm Knott to Kurt…

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