The girl swings her bat,
steps up to the plate who thinks she’s all that
the score 14-0, us, with the last batter up,
as I heard the crowd erupt.
Our team playing with energy like lightning,
as the opponent became frightened.

The umpire was a light breeze to me,
and I started to pitch in a flea.
The yellow ball screaming through the air,
and landing like a plane in a flare.

“Strike one,” shouts the umpire in a chine
the game still on the line.
A second strike was a swing and a miss.
Ball game over, with a feeling of bliss.
Hard work captured Summer was captured then,
another victory again.