Poetry

Thursday, 25 September 2025

Willow-the-kiss or the English cricket bat love affair

 I kissed an English cricket

Oh it had such long legs

It folded them beneath itself

And sat up straight to beg

Leg before wicket said the umpire

Not so said I 

I couldn't get my leg over

And the over just flew right by

I tried to bat it away

But it came back all hammer and tongs

Trying to play its grass fiddle play

It was all violins and Ned Sheeran songs

But at least I wasn't caught out

Playing away from home

Yes I kissed an English cricket

In the grounds of Frome


You see, it said, I've got my ears to the ground

That's how it reeled me in

It said I think we're on the same frequency Pip-squeak 

and Hey I've heard you sing

I said, how come? What you just hang about

Late at night waiting for your prey like some kind of freak?

No, I said, you give yourself away 

everytime that you speak


Well cricket bat, cricket bat riddle me this

Why did the cricket play its fiddle then kiss?

The bat was swung both ways in the sky

Before the ball had dropped while we were young and high

But what goes up must come down

And now I see batman that I've stolen your crown

I'm a fielder

I'm in the long grass

I'm mixing up my metaphors 

Gone for a duck not a pass

It's the beautiful

No, it's a game of two halves

No, it's just long and drawn out

With boredom and laughs

And many beers are consumed

And it's easy to miss

When a bat and a cricket 

at dusk share kiss

No comments:

Post a Comment