Out at Home Plate
As I crouch down
Waiting for the pitch.
The bases are loaded.
The pitch comes.
It’s a high one.
And I miss it.
The guy on 3rd base runs home.
I grab the ball and run too.
I get there first.
He slides.
And his foot hits my glove.
The umpire calls him out!
My team runs in from the field.
And we celebrate.
-Nathan
May 12th, 2008 at 1:05 pm
cool poem this happened to me once except i was the guy on third
May 13th, 2008 at 12:10 pm
I love your ending!
Kaity D.
May 13th, 2008 at 12:20 pm
Anonymous says
I like this poem you wrote and that happened in a baseball game I played, but not in that same way. Over all nice.
May 13th, 2008 at 1:05 pm
I really like your poem,especially because it’s basball.
May 13th, 2008 at 3:01 pm
It reminds me when I am playing or watching a baseball/softball game!
I like your line breaks!
=)*smiles*(=
May 13th, 2008 at 3:11 pm
i like your poem but i don’t like basball
May 13th, 2008 at 3:14 pm
i like your poem its realy good and i can tell you are the cacher.
May 13th, 2008 at 3:14 pm
It made me feel like I was there.