Upon the green, the players stand,
Awaiting fate with bat in hand.
The bowler’s stride, a graceful leap,
To wake the field from gentle sleep.

The ball takes flight, a spinning arc,
The batter’s eye, a focused spark.
The willow swings, a crack resounds,
As leather races o’er the grounds.

Fieldsmen scatter, swift and keen,
In sunshine’s glow, their colors gleam.
A dive, a catch, the crowd’s delight,
As shadows stretch in waning light.

The scoreboard’s tale, of triumphs told,
Of battles fought, of heroes bold.
In cricket’s dance, where time suspends,
The spirit of the game transcends.