I Write Poetry

Fever


A boy's mind turns to baseball,
But it's love in a young girl's heart.
Do you wonder why we can't agree,
And why we grow apart?

June, they say, is for weddings.
For flowers and dresses of white.
But the pennant race has just begun,
And this year we'll get it right.

So, darling, please know I love you,
Though I may not show it with flowers.
Sit down here beside me and cuddle.
The game doesn't start yet, for hours.