A Cotswold Cricket Ground
The Cricket Ground
(Summer 2001 )
Amusing it was to muse on this improbable landscape,
climbing up from the village on road, then track to
greet this hallowed square perched like a beached keel
on this high vista overlooking life below.
The silence seemed loud and intense; the air crackled
with the charged feeling of expectancy,
waiting for the game to commence.
Red Admiral fielders patrolled the outfield,
seeking sip-juice catches from the boundary lavender bushes.
All was still, contained in nervous anticipation.
" Yer, this be a proper place for cricket ;"
whispered a becalmed breeze.
And indeed it is.
In another season.
Revisiting this timeless location.
To feast on the crisp silent air, in Frank Mansell's seat,
wafting creosote from the noble pavilion, drinking its fill,
thirsty, but content with slumbering watch.
Above me hawks swoop down, in homage to the square,
and I in layered warmth,
await the first cold innings of winter.
2001/ modified 10/11/'10