#WritcoPoemChallenge
The sound of the stadium's roar,
Resonates with every four,
Down the pitch,
Over the arm,
Cricket has its own charm

"Crickets don't stop your calm loud tunes".
The meadow speaks and whispers,
Slow and steady.
The pirate coronavirus is burning the maps,
the landmarks of geography.
Giving the world a common battle.

The multitude are rising
To embrace a new resort.
A new world.
Let's cleanse the filth.
We dry our clothes don't we?
Can minds be vaccumed?

Rushing along my heart is the silent flow.
The flow of my blood at the excitement,
the release,
the Joy...