A Little Light Poetic Reading...

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Vic Johnston

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Got the idea for this comedic, poetic paradox from Lewis Carroll's ' You are old, Father William ' I tweaked the subject to a young cricketer's admiration of a wise and canny old club captain, and then his rely to the young prodigy's enquiringly curious mind, here's what I came up with...

You are old skipper !


Said a precocious nipper, to his experienced skipper;

"You are old yet still a cunning critter,
a very handy hitter,
you never miss a sitter,
over point a classy chipper,
of the pads a crafty clipper!
And you bowl a deadly dipper,
a floating flipper,
mixed with the odd, rotating ripper,
the batsmen's knees tremble and jitter,
when you run in patter-pitter,
the only sound a little titter,
as you release that stealth, stump splitter
to claim another five for, or double hat-tricker!
Not forgetting you are a serial, specialist first slipper,
a great fielder, catcher, grabber, gripper!
Pray tell, what makes you such an all round, cracking cricketer? "


Replied the experienced skipper, to the precocious nipper;

"Now listen very carefully, young snapper-whipper!
Time is much too precious, to throw away or fritter,
for if you choose to wander, or simply be a quitter
you'll end up on the shelf like a moldy kipper
so here are my proven tips, from an expert tipper!
Practice makes perfect and helps get you fitter,
so don't lay around too long, tweeting on that twitter
sending silly messages, by electronic transmitter!
Avoid smoking, or risk being a cougher and a spitter
though a social beer is recommended, or a pint of bitter
but don't go the way of many and become a steady sipper,
throwing away good money as you would the litter!
Find a supportive wife, who does not nag or nitter,
enjoys cricket, is domesticated, a thrifty sewer, stitcher, knitter,
don't fall for the first, who flashes long lashes with a flirtatious flitter!
Finally, enjoy the game and your career will surely glitter,
but remember, the umpire is the adjudicator, judge, jury, the sole arbiter,
his decision is final, so please, no back chat or silly chitter


And if you prove yourself, someday my son...You shall be the skipper! " :eek:


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Although not specifically about cricket the great game does get a venerable mention below..

Who am I ?

I am within without, here there and everywhere,
Unseen by naked eye, just as the pure thin air
Blow cold north wind that heralds winter snow,
Then beckon at spring lambs, to leap up high and go
Bring forth the summer sun in most resplendent ray,
When green leaf slowly fades, remind swallow to fly away.


Will on the mighty bird to fly free on the wing
Uplift the souls of weary folk, when little children sing
Inspire the spawning salmon not to relent the fight,
Against the raging current, with journey's end in sight
Returning to that brook, where was its place of birth,
To procreate the seed, then die in happy mirth.

Darwin spoke of theory to figure a solution,
How life formed singularly, the precede of evolution
But I've been here from time immemorial, before all life began
The plants, the creatures and the ape, he said turned into man
No doubt he was a scholar of much vaunted pedigree,
Though at life's end was heard to say, 'I believe in thee!"

I spur on the ailing chick to break the hard, encasing shell,
Awaken sleeping bear, with spring's sweet,enticing smell
Paint the colour in the flowers that captivate the bee
Aid the tiny acorn to grow into a massive tree
Which in turn provides haven and sanctuary
to many wondrous creatures, that dwell within its canopy.

Encourage new born baby, to cry aloud with zest
As mother draws up lovingly,to nurture from her breast
With bowler and the batsman, opposed in sporting rivalry
Who later sit together and enjoy each other's camaraderie
I march with gallant soldier, to answer his country's call
And serenely he shall walk with me, if in battle he should fall.

Many acclaim me as the Creator, or other names of merit,
Though often people refer to me, as Mother Nature's eternal Spirit! :cool:

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Beware a black duck !

Once upon a midnight eerie,
while I pondered weak and weary,
over volumes of old score books dreary,
from the season past and before,
while I nodded nearly napping,
suddenly there came a tapping
as if someone a gently rapping,
rapping at my front door?
Tis some late caller, my presume
rapping at my front door?
Only this and nothing more.

Ah distinctly I remember,
the cricket all over as was September
and at my fire-side,
flames cast shadows o'er the floor
eagerly I wished the morrow,
for these books brought only sorrow
sorrow as no runs did I score,
not this season nor none before
by my name a zero, a duck,
always this and nothing more!

Again the tapping at my door,
tapping, rapping as before
terror gripped me, nerves all tore,
so now I stood there, heart fast beating,
wondering who was entreating,
entrance at my door,
or maybe just the wind, maybe this
and nothing more?

Presently my soul grew stronger,
hesitating no longer "Sir or Madame,
truly your forgiveness I implore"!
But the fact is I was napping,
when you came rapping
scarcely so, I heard your tapping,
tapping at my front door,
so now I open, only darkness, nothing more !

Deep into this darkness I stood peering,
wondering and fearing
doubting dreams, no mortals dared dream before
and the silence was unbroken,
the stillness gave no token
was there outside a ghostly apparition?
For what I heard, lent to my suspicion,
as when meekly, I inquired,
" somday by my name, a decent score"?
Came back the echo, "Nevermore"!

Back into my room quickly turning,
all my soul within me burning
yet still the tapping,
even louder than before,
again though not certain,
next a rustle at my curtain
then tapping more profane,
now upon my window pane
this mystery I must explore,
pray only my imagination and nothing more!

Quickly, I flung back the shutter
and without fuss or flutter,
in stepped a stately black duck,
from the saintly days of yore,
not the least embarrassed was he,
what business did he want with me?
Jumped down upon my settee, then onto the floor,
standing there and staring,
with beady eyes towards me, glaring,
said I unto the fowl, "What is thy name" ?
Quacked back the duck, "Nevermore"!

Then I thought is he a prophet
come to warn me, time to stop it?
So closer towards him I did draw,
"Tell me now duck, don't be a bore"!
Even closer reclining, thinking and divining,
"Will a century I ever score"?
Quacked back the duck, "Nevermore"!

Ah, this bird he made me furious
but still, I grew more curious,
was he some tempter sent to tempt me
This duck I was beginning to abhor?
Again I engaged it into guessing,
towards the brute, expressing,
"Shall a fifty be mine to score"?
Quacked back it again, "Nevermore"!

Crazy yet more crazy I was going
but I had to keep knowing,
"Quaff oh Quaff, tell this
and don't say, Nevermore!
Take thy bill from my heart's core
and thy form out the door,
leave me for it is late,
dare not stop to close the gate!
And just before you go; "
Is it to be a duck, I'm ever destined to score? "

"Quack oh Quack" replied he, " Yes, you're spot on there mate"
Then left me to lament for now and evermore! :mad:

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('Beware a nightly Visitor' is of course my own parody on the great Edgar Allen Poe classic 'The Raven' substituting Poe's macabre Raven bird for a beguiling 'Duck' which haunts a bewildered batsman late one night as he laments over his continuing failure to ever score a run )
 
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