I
stand at the crease
Hot
and perspiring.
Comforted
by a gentle breeze
Fifty
four not out and no intention of retiring.
The
pitch remains as bouncy as ever
With
a lot of turn and bounce
That
even the strongest heart it may deter
As
close in fielders wait to pounce.
The
going is tough
The
bowling is tight
Balls
like bullets hit the rough
Not
over pitched but just right.
The
bowler bowls a maiden
And
the fielders applaud him
I
stand determined like Hayden
Awaiting
the next ball; to paste ’em.
I
stand at the crease
Wondering
about my strategy
Can
I make a ton with ease?
And
pray, God grants me the will and energy.
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