My Cricket Bat

Your cherries as red as a new leather cricket ball,
Your signature murmurs the voices of cricketers in their glory days,

I can still see the little wooden chips in you from when we were little, it feels like it was just yesterday,

Your rubber edging is so comfortable it is like lying on a cloud,
Your smooth fine edging, as crisp as a cold winter's night,

Your wood is as streamlined as a synced backstroke kick, sometimes, I can hear kookaburras laughing inside you, chirping their cheerful song,

I love you little wooden cricket bat with your bold big signature,
Only I know the memories you hold with a little tiny whisper.