Baseball

The pitcher is ready- he pulls his arm back,
and sends the ball hurling my way –
But if he was hoping for me to strike out,
then I guess this just isn't his day.
I swing- and the sound as the bat hits the ball,
is like thunder that makes the earth quake;
And the ball is a rocket that roars out of sight
as the pitcher regrets his mistake.
I jog 'round the bases, giving everyone five-
and though this is only a dream;
I promise that's just what would happen today
if you'd only pick me for your team.

© Joe Thompson • www.imaginesongs.com

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