Cricket Fever

That shattering crack of willow on leather,
crowds roaring hither and thither,
the boys in blue, gold, and black
sprinting far ahead of the pack.

The batsmen walk and take their stance
the bowlers pounding in a trance.
Colts screaming, Mustangs roar,
Lovely ladies, fashions galore.

Another great moment is at hand,
Old boys arriving from far-off lands.
In shorts and caps and hats ablaze,
Flags and rattles, it’s the weekend craze.

And the ball doth fly across the grass,
Fielders scrambling, one big morass.
Umpires waving, fingers and hands
Its cricket fever, bring out the band.