Fly Ball

You think of the pinstripes,
The mitts, cleats and bats.
You think of the jerseys
And the old baseball hats.

But did you ever think
About the life of the ball?
Smacked around all day long,
Built to fly, made to fall.

Schwunk! Went the bat
And up the ball flew,
Two hundred feet up
Into the beautiful blue.

But this time the ball
Had had enough of this life,
So he stayed up in the air
For the rest of his life.

He flew off to Cuba
And made it his home.
Now that, girls and boys,
Is why we play under a dome.