It was a marathon innings
The rain was going great guns
And, at stumps he’ was not out
The sun was at his wits’ end…
Bumper, Beamer, Yorker
Inswinger outswinger
And all other weapons in his arsenal
Produced no result. The rain hit them…
All over the park
And, the umpires were busy
Signalling fours and sixes
Or nodding their heads to say “Not outâ€
To half-hearted appeals from the Sun
On a couple of occasions the rain was nearly trapped
And the crowd saw sun’s smiling face
But that was all.
“The rain is on his Home groundâ€
said a commentator. “Yeah, He is the hero.
On a wet pitch†said the other.
“And, the sun is a zero†said they
in a subdued voice, rather jokingly.
