The cricketers’ girlfriends lounge beyond the boundary

They are smoothing their summer dresses over their long tanned legs

Lounging with a long glass of beer and lemonade

One smoothes the blonde hair of a batsman waiting his turn
The fast bowler dashes and stamps his way to the wicket

The keeper crouches and squints behind the stumps

The hooked red ball dashes eagerly away for four

The fielders are squinting in the low sun to follow its course
They find it behind the pavilion in the long green grass

The spectators trample the grass down to spy where it’s hid

Finding the ball near the dress of the team captain’s girl

Hid in the trampled green grass near the young vice-captain’s boots
Black southerly storm clouds tumble across the ground

The fielders race to the pavilion and sponge cake and tea

Tumbling in the green bushes the captain’s girl

Races to remove the young vice-captain’s shirt
The young vice-captain lounges between the thighs of the captain’s girl

She smoothes the damp black hair from his flushed red face

They are lounging damp in the warm summer shower

That smoothes the wet white blouse on her quieted breasts.