A cricketer's prayer

a poem by Pencil Cricket

Old Father Time, I pray to you
That clouds give it a rest,
And that I get a game today,
And that I play my best.

I pray that my side score quick runs
And our opponents falter,
And if it comes to pass we lose,
I pray the game’s a belter.

I pray that once I’ve donned my pads
And walked out to the square,
That none of my nicks find a palm,
And that I score my share.

I pray the wicket's well-prepared,
And that it doesn't stick,
That all my shots find gaps -
And that the outfield's fairly quick,

I pray the umpire knows his job,
And doesn’t lift his finger.
But if he does I pledge to you:
I’ll not forlornly linger.

I pray the Captain sets his field
With telepathic skill,
That all his plans work well
And that the catches do not spill.

I pray that if a batsman
Loops a ball into my lap,
I'll pouch it without too much fuss,
And get a well-earned clap.

And if I’m asked to bowl I pray
The ball leaves my hand true,
So whether or not wickets come
I’ll know that they’re my due.

Above all, Father Time I pray
When all is said and done,
That we can all look back and say
“By 'eck, that game was fun!”