Oh sleepy cricket
Where the languid batsman keeps his wicket.
I well recall
The sound of bat on ball.
Wicket after wicket did fall.
Then with one master stroke
A boy the classroom window broke …!
The above is based on my recollection of a game of cricket in which I participated while attending a school for the blind in Liverpool. We used footballs containing ballbearings in order that those with little or no sight could identify where the ball was (cricket balls would have been far too dangerous)!
A child plays ball below.
A long time ago
I lay in bed
The same sound running through my head.
The thud of ball on wall
Is all I recall.
The ball is now still
As evening falls over Beulah Hill.
As I wrote this, a child and an adult played ball in the garden below my home. The sound brought to mind lying in bed at boarding school (I was sick), as children played football in the playground below my window. The poem was penned today (as the game took place).