Winter takes guard

[R. Broath]

I see the pitch and wicket square
where only minutes before
a solid pair pushed past fifty.
December rain
puddles crease and outfield.

Summer's out - no polite
applause, appeals or squeals
of 'owzat' carry to where
I sit recalling scoreboard flap,
the umpire's cap on back to front;
the shunt and squeak of covers
rushed from boundary hedge;
old bowlers tossing mind's-eye
googlies in another season;
the experts and the nodded-off
whose lids raise just enough
to scoff an unconsidered stroke
that broke the final partnership
and signaled early tea.

Turning earth has stopped the play
of light that lit that summer field.
Winter takes guard.

[BenJohnson]

Claps politely. Very nicely done old chap.

I really enjoyed this, that last stanza

Turning earth has stopped the play
of light that lit that summer field.
Winter takes guard.

is just great, the pause on play followed by the twist of meaning, very nicely done. The whole piece works for me without feeling forced by the cricket terms. In terms of critique I am afraid that I will be useless on this, as for me it all works and very well.

[barrie]

Winter Asks for Middle & Leg, and Makes his Mark might be a better title. No, seriously, I quite like the title: it doesn't give away anything about the poem, but after reading it, it's a fine choice.
I'm not too keen on the line break after puddles in V1. As it is, I read puddles as a noun instead of a verb - even on subsequent readings.
boundary hedge - I want to read boundary edge.

The internal rhymes work quite well, especially when it's read out loud.

Well played, sir - the only real nit is the noun/verb puddles. I'll go to the third umpire with the boundary.

bravo

Barrie

[David]

I really like this, Jimmy, especially

a solid pair pushed past fifty

and

Turning earth has stopped the play
of light that lit that summer field.

I don't balk too much at puddles as a verb. I can see the problem with boundary hedge, but I think it's okay.

Very good stuff.

Cheers

David

[barrie]

I don't balk too much at puddles as a verb

- Neither do I, but reading -

December rain puddles, it sounds like a noun.

December rain
puddles crease and outfield. - Would make it clear straight away.

Barrie

[R. Broath]

Thanks Ben. I'm no cricket buff and apologise if the game's terms are a bit heavy-handed here.
Glad that you took the time to read and comment - and enjoyed.

barrie. The 'boundary hedge' is literal. Our house overlooks the local ground and the hedge is a boundary in both senses (one broken window last season -from a visiting player as our own team are tumbling down the leagues.)
I see what you mean about 'puddles' and will think on and see if I can change that line break. Thanks for taking a look at this.

David. I'm writing this in the little cabin at the side of the house which has a full view of the field (and that hedge) and can report that the weather is almost as good as some of the days on which they played through the summer. Good to hear that you enjoyed this. Funny what we write about, innit?

barrie. Your suggestion gets the job done. Thank you. Me and line breaks, eh? Maybe I'll try one on that subject. A one-word per line poem would do it. Boring though - but that hasn't stopped me before.

Jimmy

[Ros]

I enjoyed this, Jimmy. Full of great images. I'm usually a fan of the semi-colon, but I found the flow a bit stilted with this many of them - but no one else has grumbled, so that's probably just me. I'm fine with boundary hedge and think puddles is now improved. I suppose there are those who might mention

to scoff an unconsidered stroke that
broke the final partnership and

that 'that' is a slightly odd line break.

Good stuff.

[R. Broath]

Thanks Ros. I've fixed that 'that' and promise to read what I write in future. At least you enjoyed the rest and that's encouraging.

Jimmy