A Poetic Tribute to the Gentleman's Game of Cricket

In fields of green, beneath the sun's warm light,

The sound of willow on leather takes flight.

Men in white stand poised with bats in hand,

Awaiting the bowler's cunning demand.

The pitch is set, the game is begun,

The battle of cricket has just begun.

With nimble feet and eyes sharp as knives,

The batsman swings, and the ball takes to the skies.

The fielders scatter, in hopes of a catch,

As the ball sails high and far out of reach.

But the batsman grins, he knows his fate,

For he's scored a run, and left his mark on the slate.

And so the game goes on, with passion and pride,

As teams clash, in a fierce and noble stride.

For in the game of cricket, victory is sweet,

But it's the spirit of the game that can't be beat.