Ode to a Girl in Sneakers
A poem by Charlie d'Estries
The boy stood under the big tall tree
Away from the shouts and the emptiness there,
‘Cause he knew that the game was about to begin
And the crowds were awaiting their star.
And he played there, game after game over time
And the fans yelled his name with the game on the line,
And with magical skills against mystical odds
Formed a legend under that tree.
Then he grew up to be just a man and a dad
Though he always remembered the hoop and the sound
Of the ball bouncing high on his shiny dirt court
And the crowds always screaming for more.
And he toiled for years not quite finding his way
Always yearning for cheers from his dream-playing days,
And whenever he rested he heard the crowd’s buzz
And the sound of the ball swishing through.
And the man grew more years and the complex of life
Made the man and his dreams of the court take a rest,
For demands of his time and his spirit were hard
And the sounds of the ball went away.
And the years flew on by with his game getting dim;
The crowds screamed no more for the man to please win,
But he always remembered the court and the sound
Of the crowds when awaiting their star.
But his spirit was saved when a light filled the night
And the boy who was man filled his eyes with delight
When the substitute buzzer said ‘you’re sitting down,’
And a cute little girl took his place.
Was it possible, really, that the game could go on;
Were the crowds still in place in the stands by the court?
Would they cheer for this substitute tough little girl?
Are the crowds still awaiting their star?
But he saw that the girl wanted more of the ball
As she bounced and she dribbled all over the floor
And the crowds in the stand soon replaced the man’s name
With the little girl’s bouncing the ball
But the man was quite smart and he knew time had flown
So the substitute buzzer for him was no more.
Now he loved being high in the stands just to see
The girl bouncing the basketball under the tree.
And she grew in her love for the game as he did
Such a long time ago when he played as a kid,
But she played so much better than he ever dreamed
And the crowds started screaming for more.
And she played at the point passing here, dribbling there
Learning all the right moves from the coach and the players
And she learned how to shoot first from close than from far
How the man loved to watch her turn into a star.
And she grew in her skills where the ball just became
An extension of his like he’s still in the game.
He could watch every minute of practice and play
And the girl became stronger each day.
And the game clock was ticking for the girl and her dad
As he knew that one day, yes, he’d be very sad,
But her shooting was legend on the courts that she played
And the crowds were awaiting their star.
And she played all the games after game over time
And the fans yelled her name with the game on the line
And with magical skills against mystical odds
She can still hear the ball going swish through the twine.
And then life took its turn and said, “Wait just a minute,
There are serious things that must come to be’
And the clock ticked its last as the buzzer did clatter
Making she and her dad just a little bit sadder.
So the crowds left the court and right under that tree
Met the girl and her dad one more time just to see
Who could outshoot the other from close and from far
And they both kept on shooting with a light from the stars.
Then she grew up to be a happy young woman
Though she always remembered the hoop and the sound
Of the ball bouncing high on her shiny dirt court
And the crowds always screaming for more.
And she worked at her art as the years moved along
With fond thoughts of the court that she once had called home
And then later than sooner the craving did start
Of a basketball hitting its mark.
And she searched for her youth and the sounds of the crowd
Always yearning for cheers that were always so loud
And whenever she rested she heard the crowd’s buzz
And the sound of the ball swishing through.
And the girl grew more years and the complex of life
Made the girl and her dreams of the court take respite,
For demands of her time and her spirit were hard
And the sounds of the ball went away.
And the years flew on by with her game getting dim,
The crowds screaming no more for the girl to please win,
But she always remembered the court and the sound
Of the crowds when awaiting their star.
But her spirit was saved when a light filled the night
And the joy of her youth filled her eyes with delight
When the substitute buzzer said ‘you’re sitting down’
And a gift from above took her place.
And the girl now a mom said, ‘Now, wait just a minute,
There are serious things that I must come to do’
So she taught and she laughed and she watched with delight
As the substitute entered the game.
Was it possible, really, that the game could go on;
Were the crowds still in place in the stands by the court?
Would they cheer for this substitute player as loud?
Are the crowds still awaiting their star?
And she saw that her gift wanted more of the ball
As the ball bounced and dribbled all over the floor,
And the crowds in the stand soon replaced the girl’s name
With the one that was shooting the ball.
And the woman was smart; she knew her time had passed
That the substitute buzzer for her was not cast,
But she loved being high in the stands just to see
Her small child with a basketball under the tree.
But wait; let’s return to the girl’s life transition
And applaud and enjoy what’s transpired thus far,
And look with delight to the thrills that we’ll see
Just as pretty as the arc on her patented three.
So the crowds left the court and right under the tree
Met the girl and her dad one more time just to see
Who could outshoot the other from close and from far
‘Till both kept on shooting with a light from the stars.
And the dad sat beside his once-little girl
And said, ‘You are my gift to the rest of the world.
And I’ll watch from the stands all the things that you’ll do
Applauding and screaming my deep love for you.’
‘One last thing, little girl, you must always know this
When at times you are down and without any bliss,
You are only to look up on high in the stands
I’m the one all alone wildly waving my hands!’
Much Love, Dad
A poem by Charlie d'Estries
The boy stood under the big tall tree
Away from the shouts and the emptiness there,
‘Cause he knew that the game was about to begin
And the crowds were awaiting their star.
And he played there, game after game over time
And the fans yelled his name with the game on the line,
And with magical skills against mystical odds
Formed a legend under that tree.
Then he grew up to be just a man and a dad
Though he always remembered the hoop and the sound
Of the ball bouncing high on his shiny dirt court
And the crowds always screaming for more.
And he toiled for years not quite finding his way
Always yearning for cheers from his dream-playing days,
And whenever he rested he heard the crowd’s buzz
And the sound of the ball swishing through.
And the man grew more years and the complex of life
Made the man and his dreams of the court take a rest,
For demands of his time and his spirit were hard
And the sounds of the ball went away.
And the years flew on by with his game getting dim;
The crowds screamed no more for the man to please win,
But he always remembered the court and the sound
Of the crowds when awaiting their star.
But his spirit was saved when a light filled the night
And the boy who was man filled his eyes with delight
When the substitute buzzer said ‘you’re sitting down,’
And a cute little girl took his place.
Was it possible, really, that the game could go on;
Were the crowds still in place in the stands by the court?
Would they cheer for this substitute tough little girl?
Are the crowds still awaiting their star?
But he saw that the girl wanted more of the ball
As she bounced and she dribbled all over the floor
And the crowds in the stand soon replaced the man’s name
With the little girl’s bouncing the ball
But the man was quite smart and he knew time had flown
So the substitute buzzer for him was no more.
Now he loved being high in the stands just to see
The girl bouncing the basketball under the tree.
And she grew in her love for the game as he did
Such a long time ago when he played as a kid,
But she played so much better than he ever dreamed
And the crowds started screaming for more.
And she played at the point passing here, dribbling there
Learning all the right moves from the coach and the players
And she learned how to shoot first from close than from far
How the man loved to watch her turn into a star.
And she grew in her skills where the ball just became
An extension of his like he’s still in the game.
He could watch every minute of practice and play
And the girl became stronger each day.
And the game clock was ticking for the girl and her dad
As he knew that one day, yes, he’d be very sad,
But her shooting was legend on the courts that she played
And the crowds were awaiting their star.
And she played all the games after game over time
And the fans yelled her name with the game on the line
And with magical skills against mystical odds
She can still hear the ball going swish through the twine.
And then life took its turn and said, “Wait just a minute,
There are serious things that must come to be’
And the clock ticked its last as the buzzer did clatter
Making she and her dad just a little bit sadder.
So the crowds left the court and right under that tree
Met the girl and her dad one more time just to see
Who could outshoot the other from close and from far
And they both kept on shooting with a light from the stars.
Then she grew up to be a happy young woman
Though she always remembered the hoop and the sound
Of the ball bouncing high on her shiny dirt court
And the crowds always screaming for more.
And she worked at her art as the years moved along
With fond thoughts of the court that she once had called home
And then later than sooner the craving did start
Of a basketball hitting its mark.
And she searched for her youth and the sounds of the crowd
Always yearning for cheers that were always so loud
And whenever she rested she heard the crowd’s buzz
And the sound of the ball swishing through.
And the girl grew more years and the complex of life
Made the girl and her dreams of the court take respite,
For demands of her time and her spirit were hard
And the sounds of the ball went away.
And the years flew on by with her game getting dim,
The crowds screaming no more for the girl to please win,
But she always remembered the court and the sound
Of the crowds when awaiting their star.
But her spirit was saved when a light filled the night
And the joy of her youth filled her eyes with delight
When the substitute buzzer said ‘you’re sitting down’
And a gift from above took her place.
And the girl now a mom said, ‘Now, wait just a minute,
There are serious things that I must come to do’
So she taught and she laughed and she watched with delight
As the substitute entered the game.
Was it possible, really, that the game could go on;
Were the crowds still in place in the stands by the court?
Would they cheer for this substitute player as loud?
Are the crowds still awaiting their star?
And she saw that her gift wanted more of the ball
As the ball bounced and dribbled all over the floor,
And the crowds in the stand soon replaced the girl’s name
With the one that was shooting the ball.
And the woman was smart; she knew her time had passed
That the substitute buzzer for her was not cast,
But she loved being high in the stands just to see
Her small child with a basketball under the tree.
But wait; let’s return to the girl’s life transition
And applaud and enjoy what’s transpired thus far,
And look with delight to the thrills that we’ll see
Just as pretty as the arc on her patented three.
So the crowds left the court and right under the tree
Met the girl and her dad one more time just to see
Who could outshoot the other from close and from far
‘Till both kept on shooting with a light from the stars.
And the dad sat beside his once-little girl
And said, ‘You are my gift to the rest of the world.
And I’ll watch from the stands all the things that you’ll do
Applauding and screaming my deep love for you.’
‘One last thing, little girl, you must always know this
When at times you are down and without any bliss,
You are only to look up on high in the stands
I’m the one all alone wildly waving my hands!’
Much Love, Dad