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Our towering talisman…glowering totem…manic volcanic Viking King..

The flowering genesis of a powering nemesis…

Herculean but Sisyphean struggles showering..

The penury of injury…intrigue of fatigue…cavorting 

With the clarity and lack of charity

Of ripsnorting depravity and disparity of sporting gravity..

Another unfair body scare on the square or Stokes lair…for our oh so rare.. devil may care…flair compere with his flame red hair…

Lifts his head..this lad instead..after his century score.. Mr Chutzpah thought of his Pa..

From afar..giving the four finger nod to his God…who he did adore.. his Dad..Jed..

Echoes of the potential exponential reverential sublime prime of the Big Ben chime…

For the first time a 5 fer and a ton in the same game…

He already stands tall in the hall of fame…bat and ball.. 

In the field.. got it all ..but makes you dream of what could have been..  

Or still could be...the punter chunter plea..

Crepuscular muscular taunts haunt…grim rasping demons grasping his limbs..tinging..singing impinging…

Why won’t his body and boots be in cahoots …swingeing bingeing like Roots…

Eschews tussles and  issues with muscles and sinews..

Becomes the most impressive.. expressive..leather  wizard…willow warlock..

Our ever present iridescent primal tribal bible…another level devil..

Resilient.. brillant…heroic..stoic..the sort of hard fought cohort

That makes Test cricket the halcyon don of all sport..

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