Slow Pitch
Today is a day for slow pitches
An easy game of baseball
In the backyard
I don’t know what Englanders
Play in the backyard
Catch, I suppose
Can one practice cricket?
We used to play croquet
My father had to win every game
We learned to play it hard
Hard croquet, now that’s a laugh
A tempest in a teapot
But it set a pattern
Slow pitches, please
It’s Monday, and I’m tired
I left my glove back in the ‘60s
I want to play, I really do
Don’t leave in the bunker
Don’t pick me last, which is
Not a pick at all
Maybe I’ll stay on the porch today
Let someone else have the backyard
C L Couch
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