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Nicholas at Nine

Papaw Beaty 2/4/12


My grandson is Nicholas Clay.

     Baseball is what he likes to play.

Nickel Pickle is his nickname,

    And he is headed for the Hall of Fame.


Cooper’s town is where that’s at.

     There they’ll display his home run bat.

Maybe his shoes if they don’t smell.

     A plaque with his name would sure be swell.


Picture that plaque in the Hall of Fame.

     It’ll read “Nicholas Pickelus” won the game.

With a big green pickle for all to see

     Hanging there for posterity.


Sweet or dill I just don’t know.

     Mom says sweet but dad says no.

With every hit, run like the wind.

     You’ll always be the coach’s friend.


I hear today you’re turning nine,

     Let’s have a party rain or shine.

To the Hall of Fame you’re on the way

     Wishing you the best on your ninth birthday.


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Tags: birthdaypoem

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