Poetry Pleases: A Brief History Of Time In Wharfedale
John Cooper's hilarious poem will be appreciated and recited wherever the game of cricket is played - and Yorkshire lads will remember it, chuckling for ever more.
To purchase a copy of John's book Unreliable Judgements please visit http://www.poetissimus.com/page8.html
His solar tan is painted on
his Greek god locks are almost gone,
he’s sent in at number three,
asked to stay there until tea.
He shuffles briefly,takes his stance,
contemplates a fine leg glance.
Makes his block hole with his toe -
(every inch the seasoned pro)
Another careful look around,
can long leg cover all that ground?
In his mind,selects the spot,
deflect it leg side, that’s the shot.
Use the bowler’s bounce and zip,
take it late,j ust off the hip.
To his shock,the first ball’s slow,
swings a tad and then keeps low.
Deceived, he manages to snick it -
caught behind,another wicket.
First slip grins and says,”Don’t worry,
Tha can fuck off early,back to Surrey.”
