Sports Poems - Cricket

By Josie Whitehead

Batting and Bowling - Heading .jpg


By Josie Whitehead

Batting and Bowling

I’ll take you to a village field

      Where a blackbird sings nearby.

The sun shines down from high above

      From a summer’s cloudless sky.


You’ll not find farmers working here,

      Nor a show of summer flowers,

For it’s here, on summer days like this,

      Men spend their leisure hours.


Dressed all in white, two gallant teams,

     Hold battle on a pitch.

They hope their scores will proudly rise

     With neither hitch nor glitch.


Here comes the bowler:  Watch this man:

      His mind’s fixed on that wicket,

Whilst a man with bat, watches the ball -

     All in the name of cricket.


Ball hits the bat, then sails through space,

    Whilst the batsman starts to run.

All eyes are now fixed on that ball

     With hopes the game is won.


The cricket match eventually ends –

     The winning team feel great –

And refreshments now are on the cards

    With little time to wait.


The sun shines down, they sip their tea;

    Their game’s quite at its end,

But the winners will be back next week

    Their title to defend.


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