“YOU CAN’T HIT THE BARN”

976

YOU CAN’T HIT THE BARN

        SMALL TOWN SCHOOLYARD BALL DIAMOND
Of the 28 wood buildings in our town
some were listed by a ‘specific’ noun.
Four were ‘ripe’ and are featured in this yarn.
What country folks, usually called a BARN.
Forgot, that 10 buildings were commercial.
This is an accurate infomercial .
A Post Office, elevators, bar & store;
Church, school & depot and I’ll list 3 more.
       BEAUTIFULLY MATCHED SORREL BELGIAN TEAM IN A 2 HORSE TOWN
A repair shop, hall, stockyards , & of course,
some vehicle homes plus a he & she horse.
They stood at the corner of the highway
Where the county road crossed the other way.
Except one day, that they got aus-gespielt;
When they spent the day, in his millet field.
Perhaps I’m sounding like a noisy clown;
I assure you…it was a 2 horse town!
     DUAL ROLE BUILDINGS
Depot’s classification isn’t clear;
Upstairs, the agent’s family, did live here.
Post Office had a dual role, I guess;
It was the home of the Postmistress.
And some buildings, without back doors;
You know what out door ‘outhouses’ are for.
Readers, by now, could have toured the whole town;
And by 5 PM, the town was shut down.
     COUNTRIFIED TOWN, 3 BLOCKS LONG
Back then, they stayed open, Saturday Night;
And in harvest, open daylight to daylight.
I’ve set the stage for this humorous yarn;
Let me tell you about this mini BARN.
The little SCHOOLBARN’s use was seldom seen;
And assuredly, as seldom cleaned.
It’s construction, you may wonder why;
A pioneer vestige of days gone by.
     HORSES BROUGHT SCHOOL KIDS TO SCHOOL
Once we rode to school in buggy & horse;
During my first school year…could’ve been worse,
And , in years after that, the only day;sleigh-ride-vintage-clothes
I rode the pony , was the last of May.
Taking State tests, for grades 7 & 8 ,
Shetland pony & I bolt out the gate.
The BARN was a two stall, 4 horse token,
A sliding door, & both windows broken.
      WHY TARGET THE BARN?
The interesting fact that I’ve concealed;
It was in the middle of centerfield!
At recess, we’d race out to play our game;
(Except rainy days) softball, was it’s name.
We had to choose up sides, & twirl the bat;
If there were too few kids, play one o’cat?
Back in the 4th grade, I really longed to play;
And when my wish came true, it was ‘my’ day.
     DON’T CHOOSE HIM, HE CAN’T HIT THE BARN!
They taunted me…”Bet you can’t hit it, kid.”
Let me tell you what, my bat and I did!
I hit the ball, with a very late swing,
Straight through the short fence…gave it a wing!
Someone climbed the fence to retrieve the ball;
My first and only ‘homer’ for that fall.
As years came and went, for our softball game,
Our combined goal was usu’lly the same.
     SOFTBALL SLUGGING SAGA
They’d taunted, “You can’t hit that BARN window.”
But, I had tried, a thousand times or so.
When we’re needing more runs, it’s up to me;
I ‘d swing and hit it across the alley.
And often times, I aimed my hit too low,
That old red SCHOOL BARN got another blow.
In time, a control hitter I became;
I kept missing that window, just the same.
tall-red-barn-ready
     POCKMARKED BARN & RED STREAKED BALL
Often, I came within an inch, or so;
But, I just couldn’t hit either window.
Warm noon hours always seemed to be a lark;
One more chance to hit it out of the park.
A clean-up hitter, with certain power,
With usually four home runs, per noon hour!
And, so, I have unraveled this yarn,
The skeptics said, “I COULDN’T HIT THE BARN!”
                              
(c) Copyright 1993, Orv Alveshere

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