Grass begins to grow,
Winds to be more civil,
Rollers press the pitch
For to make it level:
Thrushes pipe a stave
In the budding thicket;
Snowdrops point to pads,
Crocuses to Cricket!
Soon will stand the Slip
Crouching for a capture;
Soon the slogger slog
Fours and fives in rapture!
Soon the curly lob
Find its love, the wicket;
Snowdrops point to pads,
Crocuses to Cricket!
Urchins in the road
Bowl with oblong pebbles,
Sending to each mate
Bursts of happy trebles:
In the words of slang,
Summer is the ticket!
Snowdrops point to pads,
Crocuses to Cricket!