Zorgamazoo by Robert Paul Weston Page B

uniforms pressed, the equipment perfumed;
the goggles were polished, the bases were buffed,
while up in the bleachers, the cushions were fluffed.
Every helmet was buckled up under a chin,
and at last it was time for the game to begin.
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    The competition was stiff, the athletics intense.
There were several hits that went over the fence.
One team would score, then the other would lead,
as they flew round the bases with flippery speed…
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    It was late in the bottom of inning sixteen,
when the crowd had gone silent and oddly serene.
The fate of the game was still up for debate,
and that was when Winnie stepped up to the plate.
    On the mound was a zorgle of legend and fame,
so famous you’ve probably heard of his name.
He was Cyril “The Slinger” Zipzorgle DeYoung,
the finest of flingers that ever had flung.
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    But Cyril DeYoung wasn’t young anymore.
He had grey in his hair and his shoulders were sore.
His bones, they were old, they ached with fatigue,
and he no longer played in the Zorgledom League.
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    Yet still, when he pitched, when he threw,
when he hurled,
he was still the best flinger in all of the world!
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    He stood on the mound. He pounded his glove.
For him, this whole game was a labor of love.
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    He kicked up some dust. He chewed on his lip.
On the zorgally ball, he shifted his grip.
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    Then he lifted his leg from the place where it stood,
and he slung and he flung just as hard as he could!
    The ball soared away…and in one second flat,
Winnie let loose with the crack of her bat!
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    The ball, like a rocket, went higher than high.
It became just a speck in the blue of the sky.
It went into a cloud that was hanging about.
It went into the cloud…but it didn’t come out.
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    Out of the sky, came an ominous hummm,
then a clatter as if from the beat of a drum
(but without any rhythm, without any flair,
like the growl of an engine in need of repair).
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    In an instant, the noise grew incredibly loud,
and it came, so it seemed, from the gathering cloud.
The players looked up. They shielded their eyes.
The cloud was expanding to cover the skies!
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    Then, all at once, the cloud disappeared,
and there, in the air, when it finally cleared,
humming and hovering up in the breeze,
were creatures that buzzed like the bumble of bees.
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    But bees are so tiny, just wee little shrimps.
These creatures, however, were bigger than blimps!
    And each like an octopus fitted with wings,
with tentacles twisting like rubbery strings!
The tip of each tentacle ended in claws,
looking anxious to nourish these animals’ jaws!
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    They hung in the air for a second or two,
then dropped from the sky over Zorgamazoo.
They chased after players on both of the teams,
eliciting panic and hideous screams!
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    The creatures, it seemed, in their terrible way,
thought Zorgamazoo was a dinner buffet!
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    They would scoop up a zorgle, sometimes even two,
and the windigo players before they were through!
They snapped them all up in their pincers and claws,
and greedily sprinkled them into their jaws!
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    Even Winnie herself was caught in a claw,
but was thankfully saved by her Auntie McPaw,
who shouted to Winnie, “You give ’em yer all!
Winnie, you hits ’em, like ya did with that ball!”
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    Winnie did just as her Auntie had planned
(she still had that zorgally bat in her hand).
    So the moment the beast had her up in the sky,
she prodded the thing in its yellowy eye!
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    The creature was stunned. It floundered around.
It bobbled with Winnie, who fell to the ground.
She landed with luck in a cushiony bush,
and softened the blow with her cushiony tush.
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    â€œGood girl!” cried her Uncle. “Now Winnie, you hear?
You stay in that bush! Stay out of the clear!”
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    Winnie complied, staying out of the way,
while the others were keeping the creatures at bay.
Yet though they fought back with a spirited fight,
they were hardly a match