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poet707747


 Boys of Summer's Past

As I am about to enter my 56th summer of this life of mine,
A part of my extended childhood has past and is now dead.
The game played on the diamond of green doesn't beckon to me any longer.
The timeless beauty of the ole ballgame, of summers past frozen in time,
The ageless stories of my childhood heroes still are a part of my memory;
But as these recent summers come and go, there is no longer a hero.
No, not even a loveable underdog; on display is only money hungry egos.
Where are the boys of summer's past?

As the surly Bonds past Hammerin' Hank last year, the green diamond sighed.
The stories of needles as men tried to become gods, the green diamond cried.
I looked around for someone who reminds me of the days of past glory
When kids on sandlots across this nation played ball, saying, "I'm Mickey."
Sandy, Yaz, Say-Hey, Pops, Johnny, Nolan, Yogi, Willie Mac, or Charlie Hustle;
These names still evoke smiles in our hearts. The Fall Classic on cool October afternoons,
The Miracle Mets, Swinging A's, Bronx Bombers, and Big Red Machine.
Where are the boys of summer's past?

I mourn the loss of America's pastime within my own heart and soul.
That rebirth of hopes every springtime as even the Cubbies were tied for first.
American youth are the losers with this version of the Majors that is seen now,
Though the talents are still there, the depth of character and spirit has been lost.
Honored now is the long term contracts, endorsements, free agency, and entourages;
No autographs kid, book deals, and video games; where's that new undetectable edge?
Showboating  dominates as brush backs can no longer keep these giant egos in check.
Where are the boys of summer's past?

I may be just getting older as I see with different eyes this game I once loved.
The disillusionment may be because as each spring turns to summer then into fall,
The process of getting older may be that which bothers me most of all.
My memories are from times when I  looked through eyes filled with hope ,
As I see that old Braves hat in the closet, or the Aaron card in the cabinet.
My mind realizes that within my memories are the times I loved so dear,
That is where they live now, those boys of summer's past.


1Jan08


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