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  • Dan Popovich

Baseball game: A lazy Sunday summer poem



Sitting here with fam'ly round

We watch the game and cheer the sound

Relaxing joy to chat and see

Th' purpose of eternity


What? Baseball? Existential bliss?

That's true when our teams winning

Makes us forget that work awaits

Our price for lives of sinning


But oh today. Yes oh right now.

We're up by seven runs

There's only one more inning to go

This certainly is fun.


I know we're remiss

For not being serious

How dare we watch a game


When all the world is goin' to pot

Believe me we have not forgot

That so many are those that just have not

But for this break we've sincerely fought

That all may share with all the lot


Don't grind

Don't plow

Don't pound to dust


En-joy-ment is an essential must

Everything in its time

T'every thing there's a season


Right now our team is winning one

A simple, childlike reason


For resting "little grey cells"

And smiling that we may

Rest because God told us to

Remember it is Sunday.


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