A bouncing rubber ball filled with air
Is an object of skill for amusement.
Playing catch; pay attention… prepare.
Hits of untamed aims, you must prevent.
A small child smiles, while happily having fun
As you gently toss the ball to waiting hands.
Grandson pitches back like a shot from a gun…
Like a marksman from the Wild West badlands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem