my foul shot

We have been doing a poem called foul shot by Edwin A. Hoey  We had to write our own this is mine I have 2.

The Bowl

Waiting for the perfect moment to strike,

Wiping the ball shiny sprinting into the bowl

The results of the last bowl,

Waiting,

Sprinting,

Leaning

Wobbling

Wiping,

Hesitating,

Breathing,

The ball  leaving her hand in the process Of a Windmill

Spinning through the air in a yorker bowl,

Causing the batsman to swing and miss,

Hovering in the air,

Spinning,

Bouncing,

Swinging,

Missing,

And then             

And then

                                                                                             And then

The glorious sound of the ball smacking against the wicket

The win.

AND

Net ball

Waiting to receive the ball

Sprinting to get free

Getting away from Te Mata

Waiting,

Hesitating,

Sprinting,

The ball

Spinning through the air,

Hammering the ground,

Coming to my chest

Smacking my hands and spinning upwards,

Smashing the rim,

Hitting,

Spinning,

Playing it coy,

And then

And then

And then

It falls.