Sparky337 Poetry (3)

Now i'm getting old and grey
I think back to yesteryears day
Cricket I watched and wanted to play
I started as scorer one day in May

Allowed to practice with the older chaps
Might even play one day perhaps
Second team were a player short
Faced the bowling out caught

Trudge back to the pavilion not much luck
Could have been worse it wasn't a duck
Picked at last for the first team to play
Arrived at the ground its raining to my dismay

Next match I opened the batting
Scored some runs while playing on matting
I didn't like all that time in the field
I preferred the pads on bat to wield

I tried fast bowling was not to be
Innings complete off in for tea
Cucumber sandwiches and scones for me
All washed down with a mug of rosie lee

Resume play after the Break
Other team attempting our score to make
Losing wickets at a fair old rate
Last one out the games on a plate

After the game a drink in the inn
Winners and losers friends again
Waiting for the next practice day
Sort the mistakes we made in the play

Those summers have now past
Just memories now gone so fast
Wishing I could play and how
All I can do is watch the game now

Paperboys route

Start at the shop where the newspapers wait
Get cracking or I'll be delivering late
Onto my bike heavy bag a swinging
Pedal like crazy to get the chain singing

Off on the route I used to follow
Down the hill and into the hollow
Start near the school, post one or two
Then the Police house this chaps new

Round the corner past the shop
Deliver the Herald the best of the crop
No one about this hour before daylight
Another two miles and the day will be bright

Feel in the bag only the Times remaining
Weathers changed its started raining
Last one through the letterbox today
Mount my bike and shout hurray

Only another mile homeward riding fast
Home for breakfast at last
Bread to be toasted in front of the fire
Butter and jam a taste to acquire

A nice brew of tea ready for the day
Pack my school bag no time to play
Back on my bike three miles to ride
Arrive at school where I'm really tried.

Along the footpaths a mile and a half's stroll
Cross the motorway good job there's no toll
Ice House wood where summer flowers bloom
Negotiate the road where cars and lorries zoom.

Up Dog and Bear lane at a steady amble
Into the trees and skirt the brambles
Once at the top where Byron used to walk
Listen to the trees they seem to talk

Telling there tales of times gone away
Through the Gravel quarry now a main highway
Look over the valley the pits have been pulled down
Only the spoil heaps evil and brown

Turn on my heel head homeward I pray
The path is now metalled and grey
Another mile or so uphill and around
Over the motorway safe and sound

Arrive at home all seems so fast
Off with my boots and sit down at last
On with the kettle a nice cup of tea
Planning another trip when I am free