He will be forever synonymous
With my summer holidays.
After lie-ins and late breakfasts,
I would watch the sun lazily
Burn off the morning's dewy chill.
The hands on the clock
Would tick by languidly,
Increasing the anticipation.
As eleven approached, the scent
Of my brewed coffee wafted hazily,
And crumbs of chocolate digestives
Would scatter in laconic fashion
Upon my plate.
And then the music that lifts;
The soul, the portal, the limbo,
Between before and after.
Followed by the voice that oozed
Summers and relaxation and temperament.
Setting the pace for the day's play
Of calming Cricket.