Poems ✍️

The boy walks past the window;
you can see he's
got something clearly in his mind;
walks firmly on both feet as if
he walked on grass;
his carriage upright,
a half-smile on his face;
his eyes are bright;
he swings his hands from side to side
in front of him.

He has a vision.

Ah yes.
His captain's just tossed the ball to him;
it's his spell to bowl.

This is what he was born to do;
he has the skills;
he knows he can do it; can't wait; but
no hurry, as he's confident,
switching the ball from hand to hand,
warming it with his love.

The boy walks past the window.
He has a vision.