the angels and the cardinals
began a game of ball
with God the ump who held the trump
to make the perfect call
oh what a lovely diamond
with the grass a stunning green
the base path lines a gold, divine
the surface so pristine
the cardinals wore robes of red
a crimson shade so rich
their rosaries waved in the breeze
with each awaited pitch
the angel robes were brilliant white
and cocked back on their pate
their halos there would never glare
but just illuminate
they played the game both fair and square
without a shout or curse
and in the stands, the nicest fans
found in the universe
and when the cards would score a run
the angels did the same
and so it went, the innings spent
as rambled on, the game
then came the seventh inning stretch
the fans stood up and sang
in praise to Him, sweet psalms and hymns
their joyous voices rang
now God adored the cardinals
the angels just as well
for one to best the other guest
would be a slice of hell
but ballgames must go on and on
lest nature interrupts
and God the king could rain clouds, bring
with no ifs, and or buts
so when the game had reached the ninth
the umpire raised his hand
and clouds grew fat and moisture spat
as rainfall filled the land
the cards then left the ballpark
and the angels did the same
and so did all the fans that bawled
"another tied up game ??????"
but God in all his wisdom
is the one who runs the show
so games stayed tied and dignified
which just seems apropos
| 
Email this Poetry
| 
Add to reading list
