He came to the crease
With a twig for a bat,
And no-one expected
He'd do much with that.
The bowler decided
To cut him some slack,
And slowed his delivery,
Holding some back.
The slower ball pitched
One foot short of a length
And the Twigsman then summoned
Up all of his strength.
With exquisite timing
He swung at the ball,
Giving it everything,
Summoning all
Of his usually hidden
And buried desire,
He thwacked it or six
And the crowd were on fire.
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