I shall play cricket in heaven
in return for the afternoons
gladly given to the other
pleasure of others' leisure.
I shall walk, without haste, to the wicket
and nod to the angels kitted
in their whites waiting to discern
the kind of batspirit I am.
And one stroke in heaven, one dream
of a cover drive will redeem
every meeting of bat
and ball I've done without.
And I'll bowl too, come on to bowl
leg-breaks with such control
of flight and slight changes of pace
that one over will efface
the faint regret I now feel.
But best of all I shall field:
alert in the heavenly deep,
beyond the boundary of sleep.