# **Echoes of Willow and Leather**
In the sun-kissed arena, where grass meets dust,
Batsmen stride forth, their hearts filled with trust.
Willow kisses leather, a sweet, resounding tune,
As the crowd holds its breath, under the afternoon moon.
## **The Pitch**
The pitch, a canvas of green and brown,
Where dreams are woven, and legends are sown.
It whispers secrets to the bowler's craft,
And challenges the batsman's every shaft.
## **The Bowler's Dance**
The bowler, a maestro in rhythm and grace,
Unleashes thunderbolts, aiming for space.
His run-up, a ballet, a symphony of might,
As he conjures spells under the glaring light.
## **The Batsman's Saga**
The batsman, a poet with a blade in hand,
Defends his castle, takes a daring stand.
He weaves verses of cover drives and cuts,
Each stroke a stanza, etched in cricket's guts.
## **The Fielders' Ballet**
Fielders pirouette, chasing leather's flight,
Diving, leaping, defying gravity's might.
They create constellations, mid-air collisions,
Their bodies etching tales of cricket's visions.
## **The Umpire's Verdict**
The umpire, stoic sentinel at the crease,
Raises his finger or grants sweet release.
His judgment echoes through the stadium's roar,
Deciding fates, settling scores forevermore.
## **The Crowd's Symphony**
And oh, the crowd! A raucous, fervent sea,
Chanting anthems, lost in cricket's glee.
Their passion, a tempest that sweeps the stands,
Uniting nations, across distant lands.
## **The Final Over**
As shadows lengthen, and the sun bows low,
The match hurtles toward its final throes.
One ball, one chance, destiny's decree,
Cricket, the eternal dance of hope and glee.
So let the willow sing, and the leather soar,
For in this sacred arena, legends are born.
Cricket, the heartbeat of a nation's soul,
Forever echoing across time's endless scroll.
