"cricket" poems
668
“Nature” is what we see—
The Hill—the Afternoon—
Squirrel—Eclipse—the Bumble bee—
Nay—Nature is Heaven—
Nature is what we hear—
The Bobolink—the Sea—
Thunder—the Cricket—
Nay—Nature is Harmony—
Nature is what we know—
Yet have no art to say—
So impotent Our Wisdom is
To her Simplicity.
100k
like that pill bitter Sunday morning (after)
with a nauseating hack
the previously uneventful Tuesday
derailed
in surrealistic tale
with Auntie and Jack (and a quarter of fate)
in the 748
on a night flight
from Sherwood to Lore
reverberating waves
of imminent summer haze
river flats
and flower fields
fly weights
and silver bait
shredders and shysters
and open gates
(into those everlasting
and sweated journeys of hope)
bloods and strays
and florentine grays
(reminiscent of Rockwell fame)
running horses
and overgrown country lanes
morning grace
and gentle cheer
eyes clear
on the river pass
*blunted paddles for those ancient
and not so willing suckers!*
duke making his own way
(to the corner club)
Parsons and Poe
stream from the torn screen door
cricket cadence
and symphony of the Deere
calm and deliberate
in the soft
and silent fields
meadows open for grazing
(guineas scamper across the till)
pocket apples fill
the country ripe air
drunken bees
and chestnuts
and electric fingers
strike the surface pool
(a cedar strip wedged on the white wash dock)
baited bull heads set to cast
evenings with hearts
and Nolten Nash
may flowers bloom
across the grass
~ time unmatched ~
with blue jays
and river bends
and channel cats
...and that warm
and recurring
Coleman drift
May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 11:36 PM UTC
1276
’Twas later when the summer went
Than when the Cricket came—
And yet we knew that gentle Clock
Meant nought but Going Home—
’Twas sooner when the Cricket went
Than when the Winter came
Yet that pathetic Pendulum
Keeps esoteric Time.
19.3k
same setting from a year ago...
i am not sure why, but
before the clock strikes twelve midnight,
my eyes would surely open
no matter what.
coffee in bed right now,
with a few cookies to munch....
my bifocals, where are they?
i need them now...i could vaguely see
something crawls on the carpet,
making rounds, circling my bed...
oh, no, it is hopping towards my comforter...
I stretch a leg beneath the pillows
something moves very near my toes.
i withdraw my leg, alarmed,
as it quickly disappears...
...then reappears! now stationary...
this is starting to annoy me...
I poke it with a pencil,
fear no longer present,
now, with my bifocals found.
but it hops.....and hops...
and hops into hiding
down.....down.....below,
somewhere inside my comforter.
In lieu of me, it is now the comforted.
it is taking too long to come out.
.....something i realized just now.....
could it be possible, could it remember...
i was kind enough not to use a swatter before....
why, i feel like i am being welcomed!
we are playing hide-and-seek,
a welcome dance it is!
here and now, just like before
from last autumn,
we are finally reunited,
my cricket friend and i....
S a l l y
Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 1:03 AM UTC
Set the alarm
Lock the doors
Lock the windows
Lock the shutters
Find the cricket bat – “put it by your bed”
Say goodnight to mom and dad
Although young, not naïve
I knew every night had the possibility of being my last
A routine that is now muscle memory.
Fear –
You may think
But life –
Normal for me.
Wake up
Turn off the alarm
Unlock the doors
Open the windows
Open the shutters
Put the cricket bat in the cupboard
Never being able to be left alone at home. Unwillingly dragged from store to store.
But – that’s the thing –
People don’t know the real Her,
They know the exquisite scenery, the unforgettable wildlife
They don’t know… But I do.
Because She is my home
Because being in constant fear for my life –
is normal.
Confused –
What do I tell people about Mother when they ask?
The person who raised me, taught me how to be grateful, how to ride a bike, how to love.
Do I tell them? Will I scare them?
Although hidden beneath the tyranny – I would say –
the bloodshed
the faces of malnourished children left for dead on the side of the road the poverty struck soil the corruption the greed the hunger the death the separation of class and race
Although a place feared –
Africa.
My Africa –
Whose sunshine you feel ignited in your soul
My Africa –
Whose smile is irresistibly contagious
My Africa –
Whose heart lies in the grassy terrain
The golden dunes of sand
The never-ending mountain tops
My Africa –
Who is the heart of various people
cultures
languages
All who call Her home.
She is –
Where my heart lies even if I am thousands of miles away
Where my mind wanders from day to day.
Her air, instantly calls you
Her smell, instantly smelt
Welcoming you ever so dearly –
Home.
Like all good mothers,
She is the one who can handle both the tranquil and turmoil,
the love and war.
She is my home. She is who I fear of disappointing.
My Africa –
is beautiful.
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 8:44 AM UTC
The moon is now bright and full
showering silver romance,
to the leaves of tree so dull.
A cricket humming his chants
deep in meditation behind
the dark unknown shrub's branch.
Somewhere in a nest, a hatchling can't sleep
letting out feeble hunger cries
her mother did not fetch enough to feed.
While on my walk, I see those eyes
hiding behind a trunk, peeping
I assure it safety, I know may be lying
Night is the time for them to be,
struggling to enjoy independence and security
this unending night leading them to the unknown
what will remain I wonder at the crack of dawn.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
The concrete drum
beats two steps;
their sound signals
dear freedom
The cricket hum
drowns the day
and instills a
tranquil numb
The bare breeze
strums leaves and all
and breaks the heat
in welcome
The tonic sum
a blessed song;
allowing one
to triumph
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 7:26 PM UTC
Goodnight.
The evening has arrived and the Sun has become weary
Goodnight
The stars have come to reclaim the deepest blue
Speckling across the dark wide blanket of the cosmos
Goodnight
The daylight has faded and your energy has been taxed
Perhaps it was a productive day....
perhaps not
But the evening calls and the night follows
The mysticism and superstition is heralded by cricket calls
Reality becomes enervated now, rest your head on the pillow.
Nirvana inside of the null............................
Finally, Goodnight.
Jul 25, 2012
Jul 25, 2012 at 3:40 PM UTC
May I present a challenge?
Imagine if you will
You have created a flying explosive device
And it needs a name that will thrill.
A name, a good name, which name?
Well, none of those below.
Some twisted suits have already used them.
**** EVEN Tacit Rainbow.
What really goes through their minds?
As they sit and discuss the name
Of their creation that's destined to ****
Butcher, destroy and maim.
Just try if you can
To read the whole of this edited list
Imagine how many have exploded of each
With out angrily clenching your fist
Little John
Honest John
Hellfire
Matador
HARM
Terrier
Nike-Ajax
Corporal
Sea Sparrow
Redstone
Bullpup
Mace
Nike-Hercules
Regulus II
Atlas
Thor
Lacrosse
Jupiter
Quail
Hawk
Tartar
Falcon
Polaris
Hound Dog
Pershing
Entac
Firebee
Shelduck
Jayhawk
Cardinal
Firefly
Petrel
Redhead/Roadrunner
Redeye
Mauler
Skybolt
Nike Zeus/Spartan
Condor
Phoenix
Typhon MR
Falconer
Overseer
Taurus
Kingfisher
Cardinal
Walleye
Hornet
Maverick
Big Q
Minuteman
Blue Eye
Viper
Firebolt
Bulldog
Harpoon
Focus
Perseus
Firefly
Stinger
Compass Dwell
B-Gull
Agile
Seekbat
Delta Dagger
Thunderbolt[7]
Patriot
Aquila
Teleplane
Streaker
Tomahawk
Firebrand
Roland
Peacekeeper
Penguin
Pave Tiger/Seek Spinner
Sidearm
Skipper
Wasp
Sea Lance
Ripper[7]
Trident II
Midgetman
Tacit Rainbow
Pave Cricket
Have Nap
Peregrine
Exdrone
Javelin
Pointer
Hunter
Coyote
Skeeter
Outlaw
Wow, you're still reading
And you've managed not to throw up.
Just wondering how many innocent victims
Of a tax funded device called Bullpup.
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 7:00 PM UTC
They’re really rockin’ in Bradford,
Off the Pennine Way.
Deep in the heart of Yorkshire
And round the Robin Hood’s Bay.
All over South Ossett
And down to New Farnley.
Roast beef and Yorkie Puddings,
God’s Own County, Yay!
Yull see ‘em rambling at Ilkley,
Right to the county line,
Sheffield steel and Wednesday –
A football team so fine.
Better still, Leeds United,
Greatest club of all time.
Yorkshire, Kings of Cricket,
Oh what a boon!
Get down that wicket,
We’ll be champs by June.
Down a ginnel or snicket,
See our Olympic Champs.
Coal Miner Picket,
Relight those lamps.
Racing pigeons and ferrets,
Stereotypes tha knows.
Over t’top in Lancashire,
Them there’s our foes.
We’re the greatest county,
Our pride really glows.
We know you all hate us,
It keeps us on our toes.
So we’ll be rockin’ in Yorkshire,
What more can I say?
Us Tykes 're as barmy as Barnsley,
So I’ll be on my way.
Paul Butters
(With due thanks to Chuck Berry and also The Beach Boys)
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 6:21 AM UTC
Compliments, compliments, compliments.
This girl loved compliments
And she received a lot
The sun would tell her she glows every morning.
The moon would cry when he had to leave every night.
The frogs would gossip about her eyes.
The cricket would whisper about her lips.
Fire would blush,
And Ice would sweat.
Death gave her extra time.
Life would stop and admire.
Summer would visit her in winter,
And Flowers just like to say hi.
Compliments, compliments, compliments.
This girl loved compliments.
The only person who didn’t compliment her was the
girl in the mirror,
she said
“The sun doesn’t know what glowing means
The moon has something in his eyes .
The frogs have a bad cough
And the crickets lie.
The fire was having a heat stroke
The ice was merely melting.
Death doesn’t give time to anyone,
And life doesn’t stop for no one.
Summer can’t visit in winter
And flowers bloom for only the bees.”
Compliments, compliments, compliments.
This girl loved compliments.
But every time the girl in the mirror had something to say.
Outraged I was to counter every point she made.
So all day I waited,
and waited,
and waited,
and waited,
and waited
I met the boy in the mirror instead
Who agreed with every compliment said
Sep 3, 2021
Sep 3, 2021 at 8:37 PM UTC
I smell the air
and taste the breeze.
I sense a presence there;
a kindred spirit next to me
that hovers everywhere.
Mar 27, 2018
Mar 27, 2018 at 11:31 AM UTC
*In my Garden
at the night
a lover wakes up
to the sight
Of Twinkling Stars
and Dazzling Moon
he sings a song
and plays a tune
laden with dew
amidst the green grass
he calls out to his beloved
she's a beautiful lass
he sings the mating song
in a sweet gentle croon
comes hopping down to him
his lover so swoon
A serenade of love
rings through the night
the music plays
till the morning light*
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 5:23 PM UTC
Hi, my name is briansies the older sibling, oh yeah
You see I am a bit different to the rest of the world
They like drinking themselves silly, and I simply don't
I want to sleep while others are still out
I never took off to another city at the heat of the moment
Because I worry about what could happen
Instead of actually playing proper sport
I will just settle for backyard sports
And I will enjoy that a lot, oh yeah
My highest score in a single cricket innings is 846 n.o
And I try to keep my score above my younger sibling
And he will say Briansies, what are you doing
And I would say, I just want to be more popular than you
And he would hit me with his rhythm fist, hit me oh yeah hit me
Hit me slowly, man and hit me quick, oh hit me hit me hit me
I would say, do you like hitting me
And he will say, I hit you all night long
I hit you baby, all night long, and if you can't take it, man
You are a baby, waaaa waaaaa waaaaaa
Then I said to him, hi, my name is Briansies, the older sibling, oh yeah
Then me and my sibling, and my father went for an early morning swim
And we body-surfed and splashed each other, yeah we had fun
My sibling would say, this is unfair, and dad would say
Oh, poor little baby, our splashing is making you very tender and weak
Ooh we had better stop, don't you reckon
And I wanted to be a friend to my sibling, so I said
Hi, I am bop, Briansies and I am ready to bop with you, oh baby ooh ooh
I want you to be happy, because I like boppin' around going bop bop bop
And I go right to the shop, yeah, I am bop, the guy down the shop
My sibling will call me a **** but it doesn't bother be, cause my name is
Briansies, the older sibling, oh yeah, and I am so cool, dudes
And that is what we want, just Briansies,
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 2:00 AM UTC
Cricket is the only game which lures me so much;
And then engrosses me so much.
That craze would never drive out of me…
My inspiration was ‘Yuvraj Singh’,
Only then I arose to identify that King.
Once Yuvi’s record of six sixes in six *****
The firmament was incredible for certain minutes:
That was the first time I witnessed cricket,
And India’s triumph provided me a mind-blowing buzz to watch cricket,
Nevertheless continuing with ***** and wickets.
I would turn crazy when Indian cricketers approach the ground,
And that would certainly not halt lest they are made proud.
This T20 shadowed by IPL,
Made me to by stand that awe-inspiring sport.
Chennai Super Kings-my favorite,
Followed by Royal Challenges Bangalore …
And lots more hilarious teams and cricketers.
When Chris Gayle approaches…
Tsunami warning must be lifted and “Gayle” (gale) warning must be given!
That’s how cricket relocates…
Most matches concluding in the closing over
And some others in the finishing ball…
The most exhilarating sport
Read more →and the format-
IPL is all fun for me…
With cheer leaders and the draped studio;
With cameras and videos
And at last the much awaited IPL trophy-
Cricket is all that it needs!!!
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 12:43 AM UTC
The cricket's rhythmic chivalry
slows to Autumn's droning crawl
like an unwound eight-day clock
unconsciously neglected by time
The Sounds of summer that fall silent
are never really noticed until gone
things we often take for granite,
a mistake rendering life benign
Dreams living only in our minds
beheld within, the love that keeps us alive
never caring, never needing to know,
"fifty ways to leave your lover" behind
So many miles spinning faster,
so much weight to weigh you down
it never really was a simpler time
just a window with a different view
Fleeting time may shine like shooting star
an irreverent kind of blinding light come to pass
a different hue of colours cast and sown
an eerie silence may befall unprovoked
As if you found an urgent message
in a bottle drifting through your tides
you can spend the rest a lifetime trying
to catch lightening in that bottle thence
Don't look away from a moment
too long ... in the blink of an eye
it'll all be gone
someone you used to know ... September 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 1:56 PM UTC
Sometime everybody's gonna throw you down
Talk **** and look at you as a clown
Life is just a big bowl of soup
Everyone's in a group and I'm siting in ****
Well I couldn't give a ****
And I wouldn't give a ****
People spike their ego and stick to it
There wasn't a clue
Not a person knew
Emotions were starving
When I needed help, I used to look for you
It's like you didn't exist
Not a single trace
Wish I could still say a lil' somethin' to your face
Always when I needed you, you were never there
You were living a dream and I was in a nightmare
Everyone is never who they seem
You and I were never on the same team
Just sugar coat it with cream
My milk and cookies are there for me
No one else is around
To pick me up off the ground
But I don't give a ****
Cause I got milk and cookies
It's been a while since I heard
Last time it somehow resembled a ****
Things used to be so great
Right before I walked out that gate
This was only a one way ticket
After that all I heard was a cricket
But I still wanted to hold on
I turned to look back but you were gone
This problem was never solved
All my friendships dissolved
Guess I didn't fall in orbit to revolve
My milk and cookies are there for me
No one else is around
To pick me up off the ground
But I don't give a ****
Cause I got milk and cookies
I'll never submit
Cause you'll never admit
To all the ********
These cries seem unfit
Jan 25, 2011
Jan 25, 2011 at 2:08 PM UTC
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
the aussie thing to do
then they go off to the pub and say wanna beer to you
i didn’t know what to say at first
these people do like me, yeah
they think i am cool very very cool
yeah they enjoy my company a lot
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
ya see the aussie thing
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
and a hamburger with the lot
ya see ya go to the footy and the first thing you hear is
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
the aussie thing to do
then you go off to the city
to a nightclub, a man blows his cigarette smoke right in your face
you say what, are you doing, then
you say
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
the aussie thing to do
you see you think your a man but you look like a hooligan
yeah, your aussie mate true blue
you look rough and ready to punch the guy next to you
and then you say
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
the aussie thing to do
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
better being a true blue
you see they look ***** and very very rude
as they say
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
the aussie thing to do
you go to the footy and then the cricket
and then off to the pub and park illegally and you get yourself a ticket
the police have arrested you, then they let you go
and the first thing you say is
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
the aussie thing to do
you see there is nothing wrong with the australian way of life
as long as they just leave me to do my own thing
i would love to have a packet of crisps
but i hear this
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
the aussie the aussie the aussie thing to do, MATE
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 12:10 AM UTC
When the moon finally meets it's ceiling
Ahh, I wish I could describe the feeling
The countryside gives me a terrific peak
Early sun illuminates an anacamptic creek
The cricket's intuition ends their rhythmic chirp
I can see the dew glisten on the grass and the dirt
All silence - besides the wind and the bluejay
They spin through the sky for a game the two play
Warm waves of air push over the hills
Goosebumps ensue but I welcome the chills
This is a moment that an artist might draw
but he simply can't because he's part of it all
This is a setting that our memories reluctantly dilute
Though recollection of chores are crisp and acute
Try as I may - I can not pocket this instant
For when the day emerges it all becomes distant
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 3:39 AM UTC
'O babbling brook,' says Edmund in his rhyme,
'Whence come you?' and the brook, why not? replies.
I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally,
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.
By thirty hills I hurry down,
Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorps, a little town,
And half a hundred bridges.
Till last by Philip's farm I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
'Poor lad, he died at Florence, quite worn out,
Travelling to Naples. There is Darnley bridge,
It has more ivy; there the river; and there
Stands Philip's farm where brook and river meet.
I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.
With many a curve my banks I fret
By many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-weed and mallow.
I chatter, chatter, as I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
'But Philip chatter'd more than brook or bird;
Old Philip; all about the fields you caught
His weary daylong chirping, like the dry
High-elbow'd grigs that leap in summer grass. [grig = cricket - m.]
I wind about, and in and out,
With here a blossom sailing,
And here and there a ***** trout,
And here and there a grayling,
And here and there a foamy flake
Upon me, as I travel
With many a silvery waterbreak
Above the golden gravel,
And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
5.2k
It was early on when I knew
That my Jiminy Cricket
Was larger than yours,
Larger than you.
The guilt in me
has led every choice,
Or at least shadowed every decision,
I've ever made,
with-in memory.
A villain I've become,
For telling truths
that should have never
had to be done.
Admitting has become to me
Like breaking the rules of humanity.
Am I to be the only one,
Ignoring fears,
Owning all the words
Whispered through the tunnel of ears?
If that's the way it has to be,
I'll write again,
Expelling my inner voice
In the only way I can:
It seems to be
That honesty,
At least with me,
Is a flaw.
Faulty!
It shouldn't be...
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 8:08 PM UTC
Even the longest journey Begins with a single step
Tendulkar has waited patiently to be a part of winning the world cup
The master has some incredible records to his credit
No cricketer in the modern era can compare with him for merit
Yesterday nearly 120o million Indian glued to the television sets
Irrespective Of caste, colour, creed, religion or sects
Dhoni and Co rewrote history after twenty eight years
From the faces of Indian cricketers rolled joyous tears
Cricket brought All the cricketing countries Unbelievably together
The western Coach Gary Kirsten and Co were responsible For the Eastern thriller
The great sport became the emotional healer and the gap filler
And the greatest ever crowd puller
Tendulkar has carried the Nation’s burden for nearly twenty four years
So His team mates carried him on their broad shoulders
Even Tendulkar could not help shedding his emotional tears
It was really a great Moment for the entire nation to celebratewith cheers
Apr 3, 2011
Apr 3, 2011 at 7:47 AM UTC
THE TORTURING VOICES
you see my dad was watching the cricket with us
and i watched it with him, and it was very fun, you see
we saw australia being beaten by the west indies, because
they were so cool, you see, we were the cricket boys
and no robber wanted to rob us, because we were into australia’s favourite sport, cricket
you see i heard a non realistic image of my father saying
brian’s not a mans kid, brian’s not a man’s kid
and i was trying to relax and calmly watch the match
and my family were unrealistically teasing me, mind you they were having fun
and the words they said were different to me as it was for them
brian’s not a mans kid, don’t get kidnapped brian be like us
brian’s not a man’s kid, and watched the cricket, ya know trevor chappell doing an underarm ball
mum called cricket, anything and everything which has everything you hate
well, i don’t believe that, i was feeling like trying to be a mans kid
brian’s not a mans kid, brian’s not a mans kid
and i was getting these awful visions, i wanted these voices to stop
you see people in canberra were doing it too, but they looked like fierce kidnappers
and i said you can’t get me, i am a sports watcher
so i went home and obsessingly watching the cricket and AFL and rugby league, rugby union
you name the sport i watched it, and i fell asleep in front of the sport
you see i have this vision that mens kids watch the sport, mens kids watch the sport
brian’s not a mans kid, **** off ya hooligan away from us
you see, i wanted at that stage a hooligan to my dad and i had someone grab me outside a club
and i kicked him saying, get off me ya kidnapper, you won’t get ya hands on me mate
and dad was watching the cricket and enjoyed it, but i got frustrated with all that teasing
i didn’t want to be kidnap victim and i hate being my families or friends little teasie
i battle voices saying how is our little tease doing hey
but i hated when people wanted to bully me, saying your family are like us, your not
i said i like sport and they said, no you don’t, your family does, and your not like your family mate, your like us now man
i told my voices to **** off, and they said, your not like your family, your like us
and this made me into a little 2 year old boy, i hated that voice
i remember i loved watching agro, which was a funny puppet on channel 7, and the mens kids said
don’t watch agro, watch cheezeTV, which was the cartoon show on the other channel
and my voices going crazy saying, you are a crazy person, who is too old for baby agro
and you are not like your family, your still like us, buddy
i screamed out, LEAVE ME ALONE, i am a sports watching mans kid
and dads image said brian’s not a mans kid, brian’s not a mans kid
but it could’ve been greame thrones kidnapper or patrick dunbars kidnapper
i said voices, ‘stop', i wanted to be like my family, they said you are not like your family, your still like us
and i said, they look cool, and you guys look stupid, please leave me alone
there is also a man who wanted me and my brother tied to a pole, but we felt we weren’t immortal, but cool
i went into pubs to dance and watch the sport and i felt like a cool man
brian’s not a mans kid brian’s not a mans kid, stay in there koomarri man, get ****** mate went the little homebody kid
as i was watching the canberra bushrangers baseball team played, yeah totally awesome dude
brian’s not a mans kid, I WISH IT’LL ALL STOP
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 2:38 AM UTC
Come into my parlour
said the spider to the fly,
would you like a cup of dew or a slice of cricket pie.
Locust is for dinner,
Roach's served for tea
it should be really comfy
cause there's only you and me.
Perhaps we both can surf the web
or talk about the weather.
We could go out and try on clothes, I look real good in leather.
But first of all let's go inside.
That's it my dear fly
and now that you have entered here
it's time to say goodbye.
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
My life I would give up for you.
Sweet baby.
I would stand in front of a dashing car for you.
My life not as precious as yours.
Why I hear the reader say?
And to you I shall respond.
I need not ponder my decision.
As you are less than one.
And you are innocent and beautiful.
Your life will seem like it's eternal.
As children never realise that all are doomed to die.
Childhood is thrilling.
You have the fizz of sparkling wine.
Within the mind of curiosity.
Your limbs so young and flexible.
You'll maybe enjoy playing football or cricket.
Dancing like the child you are, you do that now with mummy's support.
Or whatever you should fancy, as your persona develops.
Breathe in the scent of evening flowers.
Maybe night scented Jasmine.
You will remember that.
Almost, cos I said you would.
I know I always do.
I also love the smell of the tiger lilies'. As the colours of their tango vibrancy, tickles my nose.
And flatter my eyes with the itching and tears, as my hay fever bites.
(c) Liv
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 3:47 PM UTC