Heaven's First Eleven Poem by Janet Budd

Grandad runs up to the wicket and lets a googly fly
Angel Gabriel eyes the ball then aims towards the sky
He folds his wings behind him and gives it such a thwack
Sends it soaring skyward with his golden cricket bat.

It’s heading for the boundary in an arching beam of light
Grandad sprints to catch the ball from its celestial flight
It drops into his outstretched palm—elatedly he smiles
Caught and bowled by Grandad, Gabriel walks dejectedly inside.

An everlasting cheer erupts from Grandad’s friends and mates
But Grandad isn’t finished, the games not over yet
Raphael nervously strides to the crease—He’s in at Number Seven
To face Grandad who is Captain of Heaven’s First Eleven.