Freedom On Field

Fresh cut grass, beautiful red leather.

Bright pine bat, covered in lather.

Anxiousness covers the faces of all around.

Anxiousness makes some frown.

Don’t frown, they said, as anxiousness is a clown.

Bang, with a clambering of bat on ball, the game is on.

And crack and wack and thwack, before you know it’s your turn to bowl.

You start to run in, and you see the batsmen tap their bat, jump, thump — the ball hits the ground and deviates at the perfect angle.

The batsman misses the ball and it hits the timber wickets— the innings is over it's time to bat!

You walk out shaking in fear, not knowing if God truly had you dear.

You face up, the bowler comes in with a deathly stare — at full pace the ball is bowled and it swings and spins around looking for its target.

You manage to get your bat in front of it, but the ball has swung too much and with a crash and a thump your stump is knocked out of the ground.

Just like that, your day is over and you may think it was a waste, but then you go to training and you're addicted to the taste of cricket.