Dance Of The Cuckoo! Poem by Naga Vamshidhar Ratakonda

Cricket Ground if,
A Dense Forest;
His Match a rare,
Picturesque Sight,
Of Stop Watch!

Your Mind Floats,
Like a Ball inclined,
To Kiss his Willow,
Hoping a Shallow Hit;
But Unfolds into,
A Clean Boundary!

His Straight Drive,
A Long Drive,
To be Lost Along,
The Forest Trail!

His Sweet Shots,
A Collective Sweet
Song of Pretty,
Bird Species Many!

His Cut Leads,
To a Cave of,
Complete Silence;
His Mighty Pull,
A Pull of the Stream,
That Casts Away,
Off the Shores;
His Foot Work,
Leaves a Foot Trail,
For the Rest to Follow!

When his Fingers,
Roll to Bowl,
It is a New Twist,
To the Forest Tale;
And the Bails are,
Off in a Whisker!

His Opening Start,
Lits a Campfire,
For the Eve's,
Nice Little Powwow!

Too many Tricks,
Up His Sleeve;
Ready to be Unleashed,
In Rainbow Colours!

Cupid of Cricket,
Little Master's
Rundown the Pitch,
A Dance Song of
The Little Cuckoo &
A Roadrunner's Chase!