The song of the UnsungA Poem by Amutha![]() The song is sung by a vagabond after gifting a village poor boy who is longing to play cricket with real cricket bat, ball and stumps![]() The Song of the Unsung Under the breeze of Neem, He stood positive, watching the play; Face against the light grills
covered the playground;
Is it Cricket? His legs swift in
the clay; Anxiety, longing, despondency covered
him sound !(1) Connect cloth of edges jagged; conceived an idea; Took housefire sticks mom brought from
forest; Materialize the playground; closed up with panacea; Ball, stump, bat became ready with
his long, long crest!(2) Played First ball: Oh! pasted cloth ball; the fabric is
torn; Tried often and often; stumps set off
to sticks; Bat turned firework with mom’s beat remined the churn; Punching
with a click, brought the clay with water in drips!(3) Swift the clay ball with sticky bat and his shoulder with
pat; Half a
meter distance; it shucked the shoes; of wayfarer; Tears in his eyes; Fear in his mind; dance in his legs; faint
to be flat; Guilt on his face, He walked
behind the Rambler!(4) Oh! How many balls, bats and stumps? was it a toyshop?; It was a kids play heaven and a playtime paradise; Got items of cricket in a child’s playland with a tree of hope; Vagabond
left him behind, reciting the song of sunrise! (5) B.Amutha © 2023 AmuthaAuthor's Note
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