Cricket love poems and/or love poems about Cricket. Read, share, and enjoy these Cricket love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems or see our other Cricket Poems.
James Marshall Goff
faith, , cute,
My blessing basket is heavy with heaven's gifts,
Tomatoes the size of my fist, eggplants so cute,
And fresh heirloom beans bursting with pride.
The sun, orange on the horizon, frames a pair of
Snowy Egrets above, wings folded in glide descent,
Angling towards their roost.
A solitary Cricket, at home in the cabbage patch,
seesaws a hypnotic greeting, then hushes
As I pass.
A Monarch Butterfly wisps past my head, enjoying
Nectar from scattered flowers. The scent of herbs,
Blossoms and love settles softly in my heart.
I know life can be hard, but this moment, just
This moment, I'm filled with such Grace from
God I only stand in humble gratitude.
Windowsill love song,
The mariachi crickets:
Serenade the night.
Sir Silent One has recently paid me some visits
Not silent in appreciation for his charming wee snippets
Thank you Sir Silent
You are the finest
And may I add, love your jolly old game of cricket
Charles Melody Lightning Ink
life, loss, lost love, mystery, nature, nostalgia, philosophy, sad
a cricket in the eaves
old river benue
a fisherman's canoe
ladened for market
graveyard's windy dust
sending papers and leaves high
every ones underground
im just laying about
thinking thoughts of a cricket
thinking about what crickets think
while buzzing and beeping
they think of the creatures
lurking and creaping
that love tasty crickets
who's buzzers are beeping
dad, daughter, death, eulogy, i miss you, loss, sorrow,
You leave no self that I can see,
Though sounds of you are still around me.
The sound of a car on a gravel drive,
Moments watching rugby live.
A pint of beer being slowly poured,
The radio announcing the cricket scores.
My brother’s tone when he speaks a word
Not your voice, but your voice heard.
Your terrible music which I now love too,
Just because it reminds me of you.
Though the loveliest sound, I won’t hear again:
Joy in Mum’s voice when you called her name.
She’s wrapped in our family for you from hereafter
Hearing my children carry your laughter.
As a child you thought I was deaf to your will,
But I was listening Dad, and I’m listening still.
blessing, life, love,
limbs cup nature’s breast
mossy trunk hugs whistling stream
cricket praise fills earth
October 20, 2015
Fell in love with a toad, and
Did it froggy style
For Make Me Chuckle Haiku contest
humanity, life, metaphor,
each human being I think
is a cricket playground
each day they wake up
and even in silent dreams
humans bat away things;
statements that are immoral
broken relationships and love
marriage and family instabilities
food that poisons stomach
antibodies that invade the body
challenging enemies in social life
stressful emotions that rise
writings that tend to offend
are batted away violently
Peter Lewis Holmes
anger, humanity, humor, drug,
You’re such a nasty bugger,
You slumming, scheming lout,
No conscience or misgiving,
No arguing about!
And when next time I see you,
Sucking on the poor, I’ll give to
You no quarter, you shameless
To you people are just profits,
You stinking rotten rat,
I’d love to squash your laurels
With my old ash cricket bat!
Drugs are for the sick, not
For pockets to be lined,
To be in this type of business,
You really must be kind
So take your profit margins
And income streams and like,
And point yourself at nearest cliff
While tied on to your bike
best friend, brother, family, friend, love, relationship,
Thelma to my Louise
Partner in crime;
Drags me from darkness to light.
Muse to my demons,
Always playing a perfect tune;
Laugh upon the wind,
Inspiring me to new heights.
Mechanic to my soul,
Break by break; beer by beer,
We patch, paint, and buff
The scars from our hearts.
Playing Jimminy Cricket
Angel and demon upon decisions;
Anchor upon rough seas...
molding and supporting one another.
Transcending friend to family;
Built in body guard,
Protecting my virtue...
A sister you never knew you wanted.
Shelter from rain;
Shoulder to cry upon,
Best friend unto brother...
I'd be lost without your beacon.
Dr. Upma A. Sharma
When I will be gone
Memories will reflect in mirror of mind
If at all in life you feel I were kind,
Nothing ever put in a secret box
True feelings not meant to end in hoax,
Poetry books that must have gathered dust,
Shall unfold your favourite flower must,
Petals dried up in moments of sublime,
As fragrance of youth lies frozen in time,
Loneliness deepens with evening cries of cricket
If in heavens I could send you a plane ticket,
Midnight blues and the wake up bell,
When cravings rise, should we burn in hell?
Written Jan 3rd, 2016
For contest "Combination of three words" by Laura loo
Chosen combination #3
Awarded 2nd place win
I bowl balls too wide
Or leap forward a little, and
They call it ‘No!’
Then if I bowl a straighter
The dull players love it, lifting to the fence!
And the viewers whoop
Others whisper, so silly he is!
I flush in shame and pledge again
Won’t play another day, another game.
They hint their last bowler bowl me slow
The ball takes ample time, and finally ‘rives
Altho’ I Closely watch, and decide an elegant pull
It always misses; and dashes to the stupid stump!
Hey! You needn’t be ‘noyed over
I know, they love me all.
Nor need you worry over!
For I’m a litterateur, I better shouldn’t sport.
analogy, cool, crazy, cute love, romance, satire, wisdom,
when I’m lonely,
and deeply troubled,
when love for her,
and I’m too shy
to say it all
I invite a cricket
by the window- side.
Then whisper in his ears
my restless desires
and instruct him to go
to sing them in dreams
in the ears
of her hidden
and silent heart
autumn, love, star,
Everywhere and nowhere
or a bit to the left
in the yellow bending of the fall.
Along the street of the lost
leaves which ever led us
to the Piazza Navona...
The dark star entered my eye
it and the song of a real cricket.
in a rumpled,
homes are sliced in half
the equality demands
the rights of people
sometimes you love a
he will be able to wed, albeit
shyly, with the physical
cleaning the love’s deficit
how far the waiting will go
skirting the mist
it was there
a serial killer
introspection, philosophy, universe,
ball is always round like Zero's count
foot ball cricket ball lawn tennis ball table tennis ball
consciously or unconsciously in love people fall
Stars planets and the earthly ground
whole Universe's assumed to be found round
so perhaps with that instinct all are tuned
beauty, books, happiness, life, love, romance, romantic,
South Pacific, Jiminy Cricket,
I tried to gain access,
I tried to write a book,
That would capture
All my happiness,
Full of romance,
Life that was enhanced
By beauty and love,
Carousel and Disneyland,
And romantic lands,
These patterns I wove.
(Reproduced verbatim from a ditty written aged ca. 19.)
faith, imagination, inspirational, lost love, love,
Everybody got a Sophia in his life,
I just don't want loose strings,
Several forces gather and collides,
I must step back from these rings.
The story doesn't stop when it ends,
the contemplation will always be free,
in the rough land or thoughtful sky, [as a wayfaring stranger, ]
I'm going where it's going to be.
The cricket as the same size as infinity,
the plenitude towards the horizon,
whistling and fizzing coming from the sky,
It suddenly turns my skin wizen.
THERE WAS A LONELY SPIDER WHO COULD NOT FIND A MATE, HE WENT TO
MISTER CRICKET TO SET HIM UP A DATE.
THE CRICKET TOLD THE SPIDER HE HAD A CHORE TO DO AS SOON AS HE GOT FINISHED
HE TAKE HIM TO MS. MINNIE LOU.
MS. MINNIE IS A CREATURE THAT NEVER SLEEPS AT NIGHT SHE LIVES INSIDE A TREE HOUSE
BECAUSE SHE HAS GREAT SIGHT. WHAT IS MS. MINNIE?
NOW CHARLIE TE CRICKET AND DESI THE SPIDER MET EARLY THE NEXT MORNING BEFORE
THE SUN START RISING. THE TRIP TO MS. MINNIE'S IS QUITE A WAYS OFF. SO THEY HAD TO
START OFF EARLY, JUST IN CASE THEY MIGHT GET LOSTED.
THIS IS A SHORT STORY. WHAT DO YOU THINK????
TEARS FOR HIM
Millions of eyes are shedding tears
for his departure from this world
He made all of us as his lovers and
made us to shed tears for his departure form this world
Who is he ?
Why should we weep for him?
What didi he do for us?
T o all of the above
smiling face in all decisions
Honesty and fair verdicts in all matches
His role cannot be equaled and
His place cannot be filled
With our love and tears We pray
to his soul may rest in Peace
poetry dedicated to
David Sheppard UMPIRE OF INTERNATIONAL CRICKET COUNCIL WHO STOOD 175 MATCHES AS
Elegy sung by cricket
When love transforms
To belligerent life.
Haywire of hedonist
Songs of passions cruelly abandoned
We turn antagonistic at each other
My lush heart throbbed.
Hatred and lovelessness
Monotony of pretensions
Love toils leaving no residue.
You stepped into tides
Tides so high, your mind
Musing exorbitant percussion
Stretch me and move along
Seasons change like a leaf falls
Hey, be honest when parting for good
No neighing swansong
It's time, part with no bitterness.
humor, humorous, rude, sexy, silly,
Cricket is a game of love
Full of puns and innuendo
As a lass I’d love to bowl you over
By having you a maiden over
A couple of opening googlies
Spin balls should do the trick
Middle of the over adds
Two chesty bouncers to the mix
Fifth could be an angler
To draw a lovely catch
Sixth ball to earn a maiden over
What else but a full toss
Just to finish me off
Now all I need to know
With a six dot ball over
Have I won my maiden over
love, romance, romantic, romantic love, roses are red, sunshine, true love,
Jiminy Cricket and goodness sake,
when I first saw her, I did a double take.
I can’t explain, I don’t know why,
something about her caught my eye.
As days passed and time progressed,
the more she shined and impressed.
A treasure if there ever was,
I really, really like her,
more than just because.
lost love, remember,
I remember the sound
Of a cricket chirping
As I sat by my winter window
Trying to decide
If I should call you
Or wait for you to call me
I remember how sad
The trees appeared to be
Hanging their heads in the rain
Their tears drizzling down
Into tiny streams
That sought out the rivers
That sought out the sea
I remember your voice
Once so soft and gentle
Becoming quiet and still
While I searched for the words
That would say
How much I had missed you
I remember the first time
You didn’t come home
Wondering why it was
I didn’t see us grow apart
As I listened to a chirping cricket
Watching the falling rain
From my winter window