Beneath the summer sun, a field of dreams unfolds,
The crack of the bat, a timeless story told.
Dust rises gently as the pitcher takes his stance,
A ballet of skill and chance, a daring dance.
In the outfield, a silence, broken by a cheer,
The ball sails high, chasing whispers of the atmosphere.
Gloved hands reach out, fateâs moment intertwined,
As time slows down, in the heart of the diamond.
The bases wait, like sentinels, in quiet anticipation,
Heroes born in seconds, carved in celebration.
The scoreboard flickers, an oracleâs silent prediction,
Of victory, of heartache, a gameâs endless conviction.
Underneath the twilight, lights begin to glow,
Shadows stretch and yawn, as the evening winds blow.
Yet in this sacred ground, dreams take flight and soar,
In the symphony of baseball, forever wanting more.