"Casey At The Bat"

This is a poem written by Valhall from the Hinky Meter and one of her posters, William Hill..... I just found it to be so funny (and clever), I wanted to share it with you in case you haven't seen it.

It looked extremely rocky for the Tot Mom’s team that day,
The score stood zip to twelve with but an inning left to play.
And so, when Baez died at first base, and Lyons did the same,
A pallor wreathed the features of the lying Anthony dame.

A straggling few got up to go, leaving there the rest,
With that hope which springs eternal within the human breast.
For they thought if only Casey could get a whack at that,
They’d put up even money with Casey at the bat.

But Henry Lee preceded Casey, and likewise brother Lee,
And the jury might be weary before Casey made her plea;
So on that stricken team a death-like silence lay,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey’s winning play.

But brother Lee let drive a single to the wonderment of all,
And the much tongue-tied Henry Lee tore the cover off the ball,
And when the dust had settled and they saw what had occurred,
There was Henry Lee safe on second, and brother Lee hugging third.

Then from the gladdened team went up a joyous yell,
It bounded from the mountain top and rattled in the dell,
It struck upon the hillside, and rebounded on the flat,
For Casey, lying Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey’s manner as she stepped into her place;
There was pride in Casey’s bearing and a smile on Casey’s face.
And when, responding to the cheers, she lightly doffed her hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt ’twas Casey at the bat.

Two pair of eyes were on her as she rubbed her hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues demanded that the truth she now assert.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Casey’s eye, a sneer curled Casey’s lip.

And now the words come flowing fast through the courtroom air,
And Casey seems transfixed in haughty grandeur there.
Close by Baez directs like a conductor from the floor
guiding and prodding trying to keep an open door.

Casey in regal fashion dismisses the jury as fool
then starts to spin her yarn of woe and sturdy wool
Close by the regal player the ball unheeded sped
“That ain’t my style.” said Casey. “Strike one” the judge said.

From the seats to the side, there came a muffled report,
“I Object” Jeff Ashton bellows “She is lying to this court!”
Lyons’s face blanches, the team, chagrined, falls mute.
Judge Strickland says “Sustained”, because he is astute.

With a smile of feigned charity, lying Casey’s visage shone;
She stilled the rising tumult; she bade the game go on;
She signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the judge said, “Strike two.”

“Fraud!” whispered the witnesses, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw her face grow stern and cold, they saw her muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn’t let that ball go by again.

Now sneer is gone from Casey’s lip, her teeth are clenched in hate;
She pounds with cruel violence her bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the lie in Casey’s blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the Sunshine Law shines bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and Casey’s sins are brought to light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville— lying Casey has struck out.

http://www.thehinkymeter.com/?p=1271

Excellent, AJ!!!!!

ValHall, Mr. Hill AND AJ are spot on! Very, very clever!
AJ, you should post more of your poetry for us.