Poem by Norman Rowland Gale

Sparkling

    I'm not a good Cover I freely admit,
      And I'm not very handy at Point;
    I'm growing inert and no longer exert
      The nimble gymnastical joint:
    I cannot rejoice when a hurricane cut
      Contuses my shin with its crunch;
    When fielding to hitters my heart patters-pitters,
      But trust me to sparkle at lunch!--
        I radiate freely at lunch.

    When Blair puts me Longstop without any pads,
      And delivers occasional Wides,
    My thumb is askew, and my bosom is blue,
      And bruises be-smother my sides!
    I cannot rejoice when a bail comes express
      Saluting my pate with a punch;
    Obesity quivers, there's wringing of withers,
      But trust me to sparkle at lunch!--
        I radiate freely at lunch.

    The National Game is a tonic, I know,
      And a tonic is very good stuff;
    I wish, though, the ball were a little less small,
      And I wish that two pads were enough!
    I cannot rejoice when a Richardson comes
      And crumbles me up in a bunch!
    I never like tonic behaving cyclonic,
      Preferring to sparkle at lunch!--
        I corruscate freely at lunch.

1. Cricket and Cupid
2. Up at Lords
3. The Church Cricketant
4. On the Spot
5. Dark Blue

Print

1219 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version