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