softball
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Dusty cleats by the front door every day.
Just more week and I get to play.
The start of the season is always the best,
I've put in more work than any of the rest.
Blood, sweat, and tears.
My love for the game isn’t as strong
Although it used to be my everything
It’s a place that I feel like I belong
And I know I will miss it every spring
Fly ball deep into right field,
traveling farther and farther towards the fence till I hear the roar of screaming fans.
Home run!
My teammate running around the bases for the twentieth time this season.
Callouses, blisters, exhaustion,
Gloves, bats, balls,
Cheering, screaming, crying, laughing.
I miss the dirt under my cleats,
and the smell of sweat in my nose.
The way a homerun feels.
Buzzing bees and blooming trees
have everyone aglow.
Sunny, cloudless skies give rise
to warmer days, I know.
Singing birds, and pretty words
about newly grassy greens,
Petals abud and puddles of mud
This time last year, the only thing I liked about myself was my persistence.
I spent far too many hours crying over who I wish I was,
rather than focusing on how amazing I really am
Every saturday you could find me somewhere on a field.
I was covered in sweat, blood, and tears.
After six long games I went home and often felt killed.
But the pain is worth my team mates cheers.
Its nice weather.
Perfect for a game.
The field looks ready to go,
but am I.
Yes always ready!
Always ready to do what I love!
What makes me happy!
Stepping onto the mound.
Playing in the dirt makes me smile
All while I run the bases in style
Here comes the throw, diving I go
Into the dirt all while I smile
The catcher missed me by a mile.
Can’t you hear the crowd roaring?
Cheers all around stacked with the hoots for the girls,
The dew-covered grass early in the morning,
Slow, cringed movements
Small breaths, rapid
Sapped, every ounce of
strength, gone
Sun is beating down, blaring hot
Sweat drips off of my forehead
I am athletic, but diabetic.
I wonder if people look at me and instantly know I have diabetes.
I hear the crowd cheering me on while up to bat.
I see myself being honored one day for raising so much money.
I Am poem ...
I am athletic, but diabetic.
I wonder if people look at me and instantly know I have diabetes.
I hear the crowd cheering me on while up to bat.
"Batter Up!" Is what they say,
when you set up to stand before the field of play.
I never thought I'd see the day,
The day I ran it all the way.
I made it to first base,
I had won my first race.
When I step onto the field,
I forget about my problems...
I forget about my stress...
Because right now my team needs me.
I have to play my best.
We've practiced for hours,
For the game that we love.
When I step onto the field,
I forget about my problems...
I forget about my stress...
Because right now my team needs me.
I have to play my best.
We've practiced for hours,
For the game that we love.
I am from the only place it's okay to steal,
from the grainy dirt and the allergy filled grass
to the crack of my bat and stitches of bright yellow balls.
The heart beats quicken walking to the box,
adrenaline rushes while put on the spot.
Pressures on; the hand and bat locks,
together in hope for the pitch to be on dot.
Steady the breath when she winds,
Smell the intensity, does it make you anxious?
Feel the stitchings leave your hand, don't they feel rough?
Hear the eerie crack, does it make you cringe?
Taste the relief, but not yet satisfying?
The clean cut edges,
The smoothness of each base,
Every corner better than not,
Perfectly polished,
Standing in awe of its grandness,
The happiness melts in,
First,
Second,
Third,
I love you in the morning, I love you at night. You are the one that makes me feel right. I love that sometimes you are muddy or sandy, and the weather is either hot or cold. You also have the umpire that has strike zone control.
Coach tells you
One decision
You have to do it
Once, twice
Maybe you won't
No, you have to do it
Now, now is the time
Down the line
If she doesn't throw
Make sure she runs at you
We hear the anthem singing in th wind.
We cant wait for the game to begin.
All we want to do is beat the other team.
As we do it, we like to hear the fans' scream!
When we step up to the plate to hit,
Crowds in the stands: cheering, booing, eating, drinking;
Watching the teams: hitting, bunting, stealing, scoring;
One team pumped: encouraged, driven, pushing on;
The other, down: trying, failing, giving up;
Softball by Hannah Montgomery
There are lots of things you can play
weather sunshine, rain, night, or day.
Some sports require a bat, ball, and glove.
This is the specific sport I love.
The clink of ball on metal
It's going, going,
Gone! My heart leaps as
My feet start to move
The bottom of my
Cleats churning up the dirt
Suddenly I'm flying!
Faces are blurred, sound is lost
Sliding into home, running
Over the catcher
Feet first
To avoid
Being called out.
A catchers worst fear- a
Long
Legged runner with no sympathy!
The diamond, it's my home.
The four bases, the mound, and the batters box.
The nine intense girls on the field ready to get an out.
I swing the bat, I hit the ball, there is goes flying out of my home.
