R.E. Slater - Hail to the Ballplayer

Hail to the Ballplayer

by R.E. Slater

“Ah, youth, fair mistress maiden never held for very long -
Would’st thou be mine but for a little longer!”

To have, to hold eternal, t’would be blessed eternal bliss –
Living final days in youthful play by grace’s fiery augur.

Boldly running dusty bases with feet still sure and swift,
And glove again knuckling grounders in agile pounce and stride,

To hotly line a wicked pitch ripping through stiff defenses,
And collapse again a team’s fading heart with savage glee and pride!

Pray, by thy coy mistress’ fleeting deign and wanton pleasures,
Thy joyful mirth lessen not come rain or shine, colds or heat,

Upon a sweltering July’s infernal infields hot and dusty,
Lying across the enchanted Elysian fields of lore and legend,

Where teammates on forgotten yesteryears be united once again,
Who, cursed or vexed, played steady on, redoubtable the strain,

Battling together hardy foes and teams without relent,
Neither bowing to pressure nor surrendering field or base.

To play on misty morning’s early dews and wispy breezes,
Late into summer evening’s dusky, droning reprises,

Listening addled fans shouted jeers and adulations…

“Ah, youth, be my mistress, for but a little longer!”

Give strength to my aging hands and feet, my aching body,
Revive my failing spirit to valiantly strive and compete,

Refusing body’s relent, deigning defeat’s disgrace,
Rebuffing time’s withered reach upon last euphoric dance.

And when I grow old and fall from favor,
Please, dear, coy mistress, tell me not ’til later,

Bless all my final games by thy fair grace and spirit,
Granting one last season on fabled fields of unsung honors.

Then give to all your beaus and cherished sweethearts,
A bittersweet kiss with one last parting embrace,

Harkening back to days of yore of lost youth divine,
When ballpark’s sounds and fury once were mine to hold,

Where rousing rants and cheers filled fulsome airs with glee,
As fierce swings lifted home crowds up to frenzied heights,

Remembering blessed days played fair pastoral fields of green,
In heavy heart, place dusty spikes away, tipping ball cap in adieu.



R.E. Slater
January, May 2009; August 2010;
rev. November 2021
From “Batter-Up!”

@copyright R.E. Slater Publications
all rights reserved