Lively watered days before
Beaten down upon the floor
Expecting not to feel the pain
Angels dew had offed her brain
Lo the sting of drunkards tile
Oft to strike her ducking smile
Makes you think she'd opt to quit
Nope!, she wears a catchers mitt
Now with glass and glove in place
Tiles call, she'll catch her face
So pitch another down the bar
Games not overcome so far
See she stays within the bases
Dodging traps within the chases
Lifes a light touch on the toes
Playing catch
with
Whiskey Rose.
-Hermit King-
