A Rainy Day into the December Night

A Rainy Day into the December Night                        December 14, 2013

A rainy December morn 'pon
The death of Winter's resurrection:

A chill in the air, most certainly
 Burning the smoke o' my despair;

And I, the once-proud diamond king,
 Nine pros smile 'pon a kiss by the sun,

As summer died two months hither,
And I am now resign'd to go on the run. 

As many "V"-shaped formations
Fly unto another sunshine beach,

And I, blind'd; the rheumatic hands pray,
 A Julian quadrant's last reprieve.

No longer am I virile, my easy plebiens,
For I am bereft o' my life's sunshine;
And I seek to find Life's new meaning, 

The morning now always o' blackest night;

But what do I recall o' the sweet sunrises
My eternal Spring shall by April bequeath,

When the grass is green, the girls smoking; and
Mosquitoes so thirsty, they slip by my sheath;
As I beg for a last stand 'pon wounded knees,
The Wurlitzer shall always compel me to "Charge!"

Christmas will be crow'd in 11 days hence,
 But the rooster hasn't danced, it makes no sense:

Another day, more cloudy amid His Gray,
And I linger as its victim and have no say.

But I seem stuck with a flat 'pon the paved creek
 The gray beaver creek, as we quote the quarterback:

I'm a slugger begging for her four bagger bases,
 My sole wish to round her third and head for her home.

I desire to drive, to score as I penetrate the path,
And I shall slide home as I lube her gears a bath!

'Tis another rainy day, my loves, and I am worn,
 And all I see is the cold wretch o' a December morn:

A rainy quietus into Winter's night amid my discontent,
 Tho' I ask if there was even a day when I had a mint.

As the rain shall ne'er die, I must fight this bout
Did Mudville lose once Mighty Casey struck out?