Friday, May 22, 2015

May PPOW- Ashley Jones



Basketball is a five man sport,
sitting in our seats,
as they dribble down the court.

We fall to our knees,
and the other team’s doing bad.
A man scores a three,
and we’re all really glad.

Cheering in our seats,
and we all sing along,
to the words that match the beat
because it’s our favorite song.


Pitching in a game,
and sitting in the dugout.
Someone screams your name;
you hope this game’s a shutout.

Playing in the heat isn’t very fun,
you deal with it anyways,
hoping you get some sun,
because these are your summer days.

The season is finally here;
the pitcher throws a curve.
Fans scream in my ear,
and it’s getting on my nerves.

College world series,
and Pro Baseball too.
Fans make up theories,
and the players have no clue.

A hitter is up to bat,
And the dugout gets loud.
He takes off his hat,
And the hit’s in the clouds.
As the cheerleaders cheer,
The time is running out.
The opponents stand in fear,
and the game is sold out.

A player scores a touchdown,
And the crowd goes wild.
He is the star of the town,
And is an only child.

She serves the ball with pride
and hits it like no other.
Our eyes turn wide,
and the shock hits her mother.

Digging for the ball,
and bumping to the setter.
We make the team sprawl,
and they wish that they were better.

Kicking the ball,
and running through the field.
I’d rather be at the mall,
than being a net shield.

Running around in circles,
and catching the baton.
The opponent's color is purple,
and I’m long gone.

I don’t run,
and I never do.
It’s not fun,
and I’d rather have the flu.

Swim Team
Swimming in laps,
and early morning practice.
It takes a couple naps,
to recover from this madness.

Many types of Golf
that I don’t understand.
It’s not very fun.
Like, where was this idea planned?

I don’t like Golf,
and neither should you.
This is kinda dumb,
like putt putt and mini golf too.

My poem is almost over,
and I’m glad too.
I done with this poem,
if that is alright with you.

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