Crossed rods lashed, and paper covering

We know this field
Back of the Campus.
Our kids have named it
Gopher Field.
Summer climes.
Time on their hands.
Mom and the two would venture.
From the rise at the south
Their creation could be launched.
With little running.
Coaxing.
Westerly Wind said
Oh, you wish?
Gophers erect and cheering
With glistening eyes.
The flight denying the Earth
Filled with mirth.
And jerking of times
At heights sublime.