Poem about cricket.

A silly prose as it goes, lol.

Haiku mourning for lost love.

A familiar tale, with scale.

The sounds I heard during a bright mid fall day.

I don’t only focus on comedy. Why I can’t sit in front of the television and watch a match of football/soccer or cricket for a while??

Night is imbued with the wonders of Nature: The sky becomes a canopy of moon and stars; there is solitude in places where tranquility reigns supreme; the rustle of leaves, stirring the senses, rousing the curiosity of the poet; sounds that we do not seem to hear in broad daylight.

At school Percy Thomas was often the butt of cruel jokes until one day he proved us all wrong.

So what are they up to now, well they have had a belly-full of Wimbledon and short break before the Ashes and the Golf Open.

For a lot of people here you may not have even heard of the sport. Hopefully this is an insight, not only to the brilliance, skill, and overall pain that cricketers go through, but the emotion it puts on the kids. In Australia it’s mine –a definitely a few other peoples – favourite past time. Pity it hasn’t caught on in American though.