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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,
heís 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, thatís the shot.
Use the bowlerís bounce and zip,
take it late,j ust off the hip.
To his shock,the first ballís slow,
swings a tad and then keeps low.
Deceived, he manages to snick it -
caught behind,another wicket.
First slip grins and says,ĒDonít worry,
Tha can fuck off early,back to Surrey.Ē

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