Opening Day

(This was a poem that was originally going to be a heaven or blessing poem. It didn't really fit into either so I wrote a different poem to replace this. So far this is the only poem I have written that rhymes, although a rhyme near the end I consider to be stretched. It's certainly no Tinker to Evers to Chance or Casey at the Bat, but I hope it is considered decent for a first time rhyme poem.)

Oh, look at the cold and snow melt away

Just in time for Opening Day.

For it marks a game that will last into fall

Where it will give way to another ball.

Will #5 continue to perform at his peak?

Perhaps he will beat the hitting streak.

Will teams be able to hit home runs?

Or will they have to rely on their number ones?

Will #30 continue to bring heat?

Or will he suddenly look very beat?

Perhaps things will go the right way

For a guy named Matt Holliday.

Opening Day gives most teams with hope.

But the Fates will tell all but one “Nope.”

Baseball can reduce men to tears,

Yet it signifies the best time of year.