Blue Bonnet

Our season is over, the games are no more,
as we load the old bus, with our bags that are stored.
As bag after bag was loaded and packed,
one after the other, pile after pile were stacked.

I remember the time when this old girl was new,
she would glisten in the sun light and sparkle in the dew.
How the windows would steam and fog at the ends,
like precious jewels on a queen during her reign

Yes, she was the queen of the road, in days of her youth,
a proud carrier of her club and that of their crew.
She would charge hills and valleys with the greatest of ease,
strong of heart, and a ride that would please.
She had an air of new leather, the touch of new chrome,
a proud lady of grace, wherever she roamed.

When we played away games, she drew attention and smiles,
this grand old lady, of so many miles.
And the heat of day, never seemed to pass by,
with complaints or frowns, nor anguish or sighs.
For the cool winds of summer would flow through her isles,
and welcomed by all with sodas and fries.

And her ride would comfort the loss, and the long lonely ride,
that had us deep in thought, avoiding eye to eye.
She just seemed to know of our quiet and plight,
she gave us safety and comfort, those long lonely nights.

It’s been many years, she’s served us all well,
those many years, but do I dare tell.
Her paint is all faded, her chrome is pitted and worn,
her seats are all tattered, the flooring is all torn.
She no longer has the strength to make all those steep hills,
but it’s not due to heart, for she now has that still.

For this is her last trip, and I understood,
for we share a span memories, memories that were good.
And like her, I too could make those steep hills,
but the many years of sun and field has lessened my will.

We’re both a little tired now, we’re both a little worn,
we no long have our shinny side, for we’ve lost all our chrome.
But I’ve been given a gift, a blessing and here I am immersed,
To be with her on her last ride, as if it was her first.

Coach B.

This poem is dedicated to “Blue Bonnet”, our bus that never failed to bring us home safely.

Very nice poem Coach B! I’d like to play ball traveling by a bus, it’d be fun.

Coach Baker for MVP