It may be on a cool spring morning,
Or a hot summer afternoon,
Players come from all directions,
For skin will slap leather soon.
You can find them hot and dirty,
All sizes shapes and forms;
Men, women, boys and girls,
Dressed in sponsored uniforms.
They are led by a devoted coach,
Who keeps things safe and fun;
One who gives heart and soul
Through a strike-out or home run.
And whether it's Casey at the bat
Or Brianna on the mound,
It's there at the ole' ball game
This faithful coach is found.
So, shake their hands, buy them a Coke,
Smile and let pearlies gleam;
Say "thank you" every now and then
To the coaches of our team.
© Loyd C. Taylor
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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