With apologies to Franklin Pierce AdamsThis shortest of phrases makes our hearts soar
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With driveways unshoveled and lower backs sore
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Still bitter that this year the Yankees are kings
We yearn for the vengeance a new season brings
Like Hornsby we stare out the window for spring
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Four tiny words and hope’s candle’s lit
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Words shorter than Punto (who gets after it)
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A winter spent searching for MLB rumors
Praying that Bill Smith makes a big move or
signs our boy Joe. Can’t spring come any sooner?
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Sunday they’ll gather and Gardy will praise
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his cherry extract and Hardy’s slick plays
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Delmon will swing at a wormburning pitch
Justin will smile cuz the pitcher’s his bitch
While Nathan does something bizarre with his lips
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Finally you take your turn as poet
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Channel your winter frustration and show it
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The comments below are a great place to bleat
Two tens and three ‘levens provide you the beat
(But add words wherever, if like me you cheat)
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Posts
8 comments:
hope springs eternal! Go Twins Go!
Love it John! Wish I was gonna see you this year in Fort Myers! :)
Genius, John. Great poem!
Here you go:
"If Cisco ain't back, it will be tragic
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Cuddy will still provide us with magic
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Killebrew smiles and signs autos for the crowd,
And man oh man Jim Thome's BP is loud.
I have a feeling these boys will make us proud,
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Sun rays await at the new Target Field,
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Let's hope the playoff losing is now healed,
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I'm going to eat some fried walleye on a stick,
While the Twins over Cards in six is my pick,
And throw'n snowballs at Red Sox will be a kick,
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My heart leaps with those words that I hear,
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I check orbitz-dot-com while I cheer,
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But as I find out I can't pay the airfare,
I spit out my SPAM-wich and scream, 'it's not fair!'
That for another year I won't be down where,
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White and still cold, but not in our heart,
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Who can replace the naked old fart,
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The pieces seem to be in place,
After last season's taste,
Please tell me the staff's got an ace,
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Hudson at second pushes Punto to third,
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Gardy, again, gives Brandon Harris the bird,
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With GoGo a no-go and a redesigned logo,
Our new home field makes a pretty photo,
And we wonder, "where did the dome dog go?"
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How in the world do we improve Cuddy's UZR?
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Delmon on Jenny Craig seems kind of bizzarre,
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Pohlads finally opened up the checkbook,
Hey number 7, to the East please do not look,
Or Mark Rosen will cry in his breakfast nook,
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Imagine this poem one year from today
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If, horror of horrors, our Joe goes away
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Our longing for spring shall be met with despair
And waves of regret make us tear out our hair
How can we go on, knowing Joe won't be there?
Pitchers and ??? report.
Awesome job gang! Thanks!
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