The Prize Poem by Edmund V. Strolis
The Prize
Flip the pillow to the cool side, kick the blanket from the bed.
Why sleep to chase a dream, he chose to hold his prize instead.
There within his grass stained grasp, he turned the treasure in his hand.
With dirty nails and scuffed scraped skin, his tangled hair and summer tan.
He was the envy of every kid, they looked upon him with wide eyed wonder.
How that rabble marched with pride, within the magical spell they were under.
Ah the fortune of youth, the crowning glory of that hot and hazy summers day.
All that is good in the world came together when Mantle hit the ball his way.
........of that hot and hazy summers day A flood of memories that won't go away...... Ah! this poem took me back in time...the good old days when we were not addicted to gadgets/computers etc but enjoyed the breeze, the blue skies, the wack of the ball or even the hurt in the fall. Great poem sir.
even after decades sometimes memories of a hot summer day on the greens hitting the ball can bring forth a sigh or smile and we feel the best part of life is indeed over. great write.....
Oh I know all too well what you feel. I am also glad to know that the same spirit holds true from the baseball field to the cricket green. Youth with inexhaustible lungs and tireless legs. The long days of summer seemed to be an eternity.......ahhhhh yes.
A lovely, dynamic and inspiring poem. Thank you for sharing!
i like it, edmund! but i hasten to say that growing up in new york city when i did i was a giants fan, and my favorite player (favorite sports hero of all time) was/is willie mays. i used to have arguments with friends about who was the greater. no comparison! but what a thrill to catch a homer- especially one from one so prominent- even if he was a yankee(!) -glen
This reminds me of a time in boyhood when my mother bought me a pair of hiking boots. I put them next to my bed, and they gave me waking dreams of places I would go.
The fervor of youth and game with the towering image of legendary Mantle is beautifully captured in this well-rhymed poem of yours with great economy of words. We, the Indian rabble, have done this with our cricket legends too. If you have time, please read my Ode To Sachin.
the style of expression and the way of construction strike me. i liked reading it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 4:47:24 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I wrote out a long comment on this, but then got the message not allowed to comment. Test...
My computer is on the Fritz.......not sure if that is politically incorrect. I am sure that I don't care. I had to copy and paste the reply above and that is how it turned out-scattered. Hither and yon. I noticed that the quotation marks are all missing too. Not cooooooool. I can screw up my own grammar and punctuation just fine without the assistance of this computer! Time to re-boot.