≡ Menu

Baseball Poems

Are you or someone you know extremely passionate about baseball? Maybe you know someone who is obssessed with hitting that home run. Perhaps you have a son or daughter that has just finished their big season?! Whatever the case may be, search through these posts in order to find the words that you need in order to express your appreciation of the sport, or of the person who plays the sport. Sending a card with one of these caring poems on it could make someone’s day. It could possibly put a smile on someone who has just finished up a rough season of baseball and needs some encouragement. You can also find words that willl allow you and someone else to connect over a love for baseball. There are a variety of reasons to filter through these poems and find one that not only resonates with your heart but that also speaks meaning to someone else that shares the same passion. Be sure to look for the words that have meaning to you and allow you to be excited to share them with someone else as well. After you find the words that serve you and your friends and family, you are sure to feel a big relief.

How to Create the Perfect Card - Examples

The ball flies by, nearly missing my face
I hope I can hit it, and make it to home base
I clench my bat firmly and spread my legs apart
One, two, three bam! The ball hits the bat
Nearly spooking my heart
I race to the plate, closely I almost missed
But I make it safely, so smooth and so swift

Fresh cut grass, the crowd cheering on
The roar in excitement, helps me play the game strong
I spit to the side, then turn my hat around
As I roughly tap my bat, close to the ground
The ball comes towards me
As I nearly missed
Wham, whoosh goes the ball
As the ball gets hit

I stare at him, he stares back at me
I pull my arm own and back
As I began to release
I throw it so hard
I thought that I heard
The sparks hit the air
The player steps back
Gasping in despair
As he misses the ball
You’re out! Only fair

You’ve got two hands and just one glove,
You’ve got one helmet,
You’ve got one bat and one ball
You’re just a man with one chance
Will you hit or will you miss,
You’ve got one game so let’s play

A swing or a miss happens in one strike
Wait for the pitch but try and have some fun
Keep your eyes on the ball
With the bat firmly in your grip
Time your moment and make it count
As the ball speeds towards you.

Load more messages

With one swing, I got the perfect hit
The ball flew up into the sky
As I started making my run,
Dust flew behind my heels
As the crowd cheered my name,
My helmet shaking violently in my head
As the coach screamed for a touch base.

A game for champion hitters
Major and minor league
A shortstop to the scoreboard
A fastball for the team
A slugger from the batter
A pitch to wow the crowd
A centre-fielded curveball
From the pitcher’s mound

The large crowd is buzzing with anticipation
The batter is ready to start his first mission
The scoreboard is even the lights are on full
A missed ball is thrown and the crowd’s in a lull
All eyes on the bowler a curveball is thrown
With drama like this the winner’s unknown
A tense game all round the scoreboard’s still even
The crowd is downcast no celebrations this evening

To reach first base is a joy
That leaves you with a thirst for more
Second base is exciting
Pride is on the horizon
Third base is so tense
Don’t want to sit on the fence
Fourth base is a home run
Winning brings the team fun

Fresh cut grass,
short and green,
the smell in the air,
do you know what I mean.
Red clay dirt,
around the field,
good place to run,
go, don’t yield.
White chalk lines,
drawn out to straight,
from 3rd to home,
I just can’t wait.
Ball in glove to make catch,
pop fly or grounder,
this hit is no match.
Ball to bat,
swing hard, don’t miss,
no game on earth is better than this.

Load more messages

And there you were,
blue cap and jersey, white pants
bat held high above the shoulder cocked and ready to swat one out in that perfect stance of yours.
Broad shoulders, cocky, confident, ready-or-not smile.
The times you played were magical, achieving your goals,
An all star you were, a shining glistering star,
But stars are born to flame out, die.

The game is in my blood,
It flows through all my veins.
With every breath I take,
It’s all been worth the pains.
Been hit by many pitches,
Drew blood on several slides,
And choosing our sides.
In backyardbaseball and homerun derby,
Where the Dreesmans do reside.
Today I play my last game.
When done, I missed some tears.
To leave this park behind me,
That’s been my home for years.

The bat makes contact with the ball.
The player takes off running.
The fielder catches the ball in his glove.
The fielder throws the ball.
The runner sides into the base.
The umpires rules.


Spring is here.
The grass is getting trimmed.
The smell of fresh paint in the air.
Dirt is being groomed.
The bases are put in.
Hot dogs are on the grill.
The gates opens.
The crowd finds their seats.
The game begins.


Some may call it slow,
But I call it tactful.
Some may say it’s boring,
But I say it is riveting.
Some may not understand it,
But I thoroughly enjoy it.
Some say it’s a dying sport,
But I say the best is yet to come.
Some may call it “America’s Past Time,”
I call it my whole world.

Load more messages

It’s that season again,
Baseball is here.
The swinging of bats,
Balls flying through the air.
The pitcher takes the mound,
The batter ready at home plate.
A speedy pitch leaves an ungloved hand,
A swing and a miss.
The first strike is called,
And they ready again.

The fields are green,
And the lines are freshly
The pitching mound is neat,
And the bases laid just so.
The baseball field is ready,
And the players are warming up.
The stands are full,
And cheering is loud.
Baseball is finally here,
Let the games begin.

It’s the ninth inning,
And the bases are loaded.
We are at a tie,
We just need one more run.
The batter takes his swing,
And he hits a home run.
Our team won the game,
And all of our players made their
All of the fans are cheering,
We did it, we won.

Today is the day, to hit a home run
To try your best, and to have some fun.
Your motivation serves as an inspiration to me.
It is on display, for all to see.
So go out there and play your best
Fate will take care of all of the rest.

The season is finally over
You can put down your bat and mit
After all that hard work
You can ultimatly take a sit.
You have played on a team,
And you finished really strong
This resting period will be worth it
As it won’t last very long.

Load more messages

Strike one.
You have won my heart,
By playing an awesome game.
Strike two.
Keep on going, for you are
Reaping the wonderful things you’re sowing.
Strike three.
They say that you’re now out
But you are just taking a different route.

The pitcher takes the mound,
seams red-stripped in his palm.
Eyes watch the catcher’s signal.
Stadium lights glare, teammates stare.
The closing score with all gloves greased
as the ball is released.
Will the it be caught,
or let fall?

Bat cracks as the ball flies.
Risk a slide- cleats collide
with a base- safe.
In the bottom of the eighth, players debate.
Decisions on the diamond.
Duration of the inning lengthens.
Handfuls of Crackerjacks
sweet as a home run.

The pitcher throws over home plate,
batter strikes at one.
Diamond dust clouds the eyes
as the runner rounds first base.
A chase ensures, he’s in a pickle,
Can he race ahead?
Cleats arrive too late, arms reach

The whizz of the ball, and the crack of the bat; A baseball game is for sure where it’s at; Peanuts and popcorn and hot dogs and more; We won’t leave ’til the final score; Fun for me and fun for all; Let’s get on the field and play some ball!

Load more messages

I can’t wait to get out of class; And join all the players upon the grass; Nine of us, all raring to go; To hit, and run, and catch, and throw; A baseball field is the home for me; And I’ll be the best player that I can be!

Fill up the bleachers, strike up the band!; Put on your cleats, and a glove in your hand!; Through all of the innings, it’s never a bore!; If you give it your best, then you’ll run up the score!; It’s time to play ball, time to have fun; Baseball’s a joy for everyone!

A cold beer in my hand
A juicy hotdog in the other
I walk towards my stadium seats
Excitement fills the crowd
As I sit down to enjoy the game
I await the first pitch
I watch as the team warms up
Anticipation fills me
Finally, the game begins!
I shout for my team
Let’s play ball!

You have been a star player from the start
Practicing hard to perfect your art
Always the leader of your team
To become a baseball star is your dream
When the ball is in your hands
You can catch me cheering for the stands
Good luck on your big game!

Watching baseball
In my family
Has becoming a tradition
This you will see
It turns into a mission
On a game day
We pile in the car
We drive to the stadium
It is not very far
Excited to eat a hot dog
In our club level seats
My parents love coming to the games
They say “This is so neat!”
We laugh and scream
As we cheer for our team
Eating sunflower seeds
Watching our team do well
Our season tickets
Are something I will never sale

Load more messages

a bat a ball
a base or two
hey there your out
yells the man in stripes
a homerun or two
i can’t keep up
who’s winning
who’s losing
oh look there’s the ball
a glove goes up for catching
it is baseball after all

one, two, three
there’s a runner
on base
a slide there
a glove here
a catch it is out
order popcorn
hot dogs maybe a
drink come on
sit down look at
these seats
let’s watch baseball
an hour or more

he ran the base
he caught the ball
he threw it left
he slide to home
an out for them
go go go
the crowd is cheering
he hits the ball
up up it goes
it is gone
where did it go
the score keeps going up
it is a win
one two three
a hooray for all

Load more messages

first amusement
Complete recreations were standard for a few,
watched by caps and ties through fragrant stogie smoke.
Extraordinary Scott – grand slam derby – M&Ms – Maypo (hold the juice).
Baseball is Topps and a nickel is above all else.
September’s finished. Eight groups long for evening October fun.
night top
Spare this. DH that. Pitch check. Everybody resembles a catcher now.
Corporate heads sit and talk while beginning pitchers execute business with the warm up area.
Just flying creatures get flipped.
Jokers and trump cards blow on hands. Stars under stars
while witches and apparitions and trolls play.

Age-old Southern countenances,
tight-lipped and bleak,
in their batting caps,
their jaws tucked in,
raise their steel barrels
also, delve in once more.
Leftovers of their family line,
relatives of their kinfolk,
that gazed intently at steel barrels
also, charged once more,
realizing that their odds
to endure were thin.
The batteries of the foe
are normally going to win.

Load more messages

His five-hundreth unfortunate casualty –
A name for random data darlings;
The pitch, number nine,
A full-check slider,
Hurled nine days after
His Mets debut.
His swat – his originally hit as a Met-
A gloved amazement for a seat purchaser;
The media’s energy amplifying
The trio’s minute;
The catch worth bats, balls, pullovers,
The endowments of a Major League man
Whose fantasies were presently just recollections,
Whose impact couldn’t resuscitate the past –
Just mix the present.