Dr. Wayne Dyer

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The Shaiah story.

Rickr2889

16-08-2005 10:55:03

I was so moved by this story that I took it upon myself to re-tell it in a poem. Here is the poem and I welcom comments on the story or the poem.

Eighteen boys went outside that day,
all normal boys each eager to play.
They all knew how to be part of the whole;
baseball a team and each had a role.
The pitcher the catcher the runner on base,
they all had a job and each took his place.
Nine innings of fun to determine who wins
Quickly pass by with three outs and three ins.
A small crowd gathered to watch and to cheer,
and a boy passing by stopped to see and to hear.
Born was this lad with all a boy’s dreams,
but he never played ball he hadn’t the means.
You think I could play he said to his dad,
his eyes full of hope little hope that he had.
His father ached for his son on that day
he wanted to give him just one chance to play.
A boy stood close by, fielding in right.
Dad shouted to him you think the teams might
let this boy play in his first baseball game
just one inning left and the score such a shame.
“Sure take my glove there’s nothing to loose,
your playing right field stand here in my shoes.”
The boy who said yes knew at a glance
If Shaiah should bat there wasn’t much chance.
But something moved him, the sad little face
and caused him to offer Shaiah his place.
Wouldn’t you know that fate might decree
with one out to go before there were three,
the winning run was to come up to bat.
Three on the basses imagine that
A dad on the sideline wondered with dread,
would Shaiah bat while the other team led?
With bat in hand he walked to the plate,
his swing at the ball would seal the game’s fate.
The pitcher moved in and gave the ball loft,
he had never in life pitched it so soft.
But Shaiah not knowing just what he should do,
swung far to late as the ball passed right through.
The pitcher came closer to toss it once more,
his intention quite clear in spite of the score.
Then came the lad from the bench that had sat
and standing behind four hands shared the bat.
As the pitcher came forward the bat clunked a sound
A grounder of sorts slowly rolled to the mound
Fielding the ball and turning toward first
The pitcher drew back as dad feared the worst
The first basemen leaped but had not a chance
he knew right away by the pitcher’s last glance.
And the ball sailed high well over his head
then everyone knew, the intention was read.
The boy with the ball could have thrown Shaiah out
but instead he laughed and then started to shout
“Run on to second you can make it now go!”
Well out of bounds he sailed the next throw
“Shaiah to third you can take another base!”
So to third ran the lad with a grin on his face.
Next came the throw again off the mark;
over the fence and clear out of the park.
“Run Shaiah run , run home you can score!”
So running toward home Shaiah laughed all the more.
And crossing the plate for his very first time
What Shaiah was feeling was just so sublime.
They hoisted him up on shoulders to carry
A boy and his dreams his fears now to bury
For just such as this are special ones born
To make people perfect and bring a new morn
Not for Shaiah was a game played that day,
but for eighteen boys who would learn a new way

a true story

Mel306

29-08-2005 13:17:44

Can I use this poem for a baseball website I am doing for my son and his friends?

Email me and let me know. Mel306@aol.com