It is the day when I said I would start walking
Of course it is raining, but only a fine drizzle
Yet still sufficient to delay my departure
It is the fifth day of the cricket test match
Between England, and the West Indies
Much had been made before this game
About the poor state
Of West Indies cricket, some
Said terminal decline
Yet here, on the final day, they are
Still in with a chance
Albeit some say, a small chance
Seventeen minutes to go until lunch
Two hundred and fifty runs
Are needed for victory
Or eight wickets have to fall
Before defeat could be
Some say would be, confirmed
All around me
I have distractions
To save me from the walking
Yet it is the cricket commentary
Yes, TMS is the itch
Which I simply cannot foil to scratch
I ought to tell you
That I recently bought a cagoule
Especially for
Changeable weather such as this
I see it now staring out at me
From the chair back
The LBW shout is given not out
My new coat’s shout
Is given not out
The Test Match Special team move on
To discuss ways of playing bridge
They too are also so so easily distracted
