An Acrostic Poem is one in which the first letter of each line spells out a complete word. The poem’s title is often given as this, usually single, word.
A short example would be . . .
C ommitted a crime R elied on his knife I nterred doing time M essed up a life E verlasting paradigm
Roll up, Roll up And buy your ticket Rejoice and thrill At the game of CRICKET
Bowlers bowl Fielders field Batsmen bat Never yield
Keepers keep And catchers catch All this happens In a cricket match
Strikers strike And hitters hit Sloggers slog Lickety-split
Floaters float Beamers beam Chuckers chuck While seamers seam
Umpires umpire Scorers score Strikers strike Can’t ask for more
Spinners spin Sledgers sledge Captains captain At the cutting edge
Drivers drive And blockers block Bouncers bounce Eye on the clock
Grafters graft And Hackers hack Hookers hook Better stand back
Openers open Swingers swing Sweepers sweep ‘Cos that’s their thing
Oft played upon A sticky wicket Best sport of all The game of CRICKET
As in all sports, cricket has over its long history built up a long list of specialist vocabulary, or jargon. I have attempted to incorporate some of this specialist language in my verses.
My pen and wash painting is of a scene at the Heathcoat Cricket Club in Mid-Devon. The game of cricket has been played on this ground since the late 19th Century. The ground itself is one of the few to be found actually within the grounds of a National Trust property – that of Knightshayes Court , in the village of Bolham, near Tiverton.
Yes, I am getting older now; my prime has slipped away; But I’m beating off the Harpies who want to bring doomsday. But the benefits now brought about through all the new advances Have brought about a change in me, at least they’ve upped my chances.
For, mine eyes have seen the glory never found since I was nine; I ‘ve cast aside my spectacles reversing my decline. I’ve got new eyes now, darling, and the cataracts have gone, So despite my aged torso I will still keep staggering on.
And my new knees tell the story of my better prospects now; I’m going to try the Great North Run if only they allow, ‘Cos I feel as though I’m twenty four and kicking down the door. At least I’ll get a few years now before I need some more.
My metal hip has been replaced; I now have one in plastic; It’s been a great success, although the experience was quite drastic. I can hobble with the best of them and the stairs I cope with ease; Yes, walking is a doddle now and life is just a breeze.
My hearing aid’s a bonus, I know what’s being said on telly. My confidence I have regained, I’d rival Machiavelli; The end still justifies the means; these life aids serve their purpose, But instead of “Turn the volume up”, I’m wishing they were wordless.
My carpal tunnel surgery stopped my fingers feeling numb. I’m twice the man I used to be, an artist I’ve become; So now you see me in my prime reflecting on new marvels; My hands are fully functional now; I have not lost my marbles.
My lumber corset gives me an efficient spinal brace. My posture’s as it should be now, no longer a disgrace. I stand upright and hold my place wherever I may be, Just the occasional little blip, one you’ll hardly ever see.
The wig I found provided me with a new lease of life; No longer bald and reticent – I’ve got a new-found wife. I’m wond’ring how surprised she’ll be when we get into bed, Perhaps she’ll want a payback when she finds she’s been misled?
They gave me my libido back with just a small blue pill; Revived my passion and my lust – be that for good or ill. I must say I’m enjoying those long lost thrills again, No longer from the Tantric Arts, do I have to abstain.
They now give me a freebie both for Christmas and tv Free bus and tube rides I can get, I’ve become a devotee Of touring round my city in a bus as if in state Suits me to be busy now at the age of eighty eight.
A pension I am grateful for, although it’s not enough, I paid my dues for forty years, I did think that was tough; Yes, the National Health helps me a lot, I get my medicine free, And if I want a pick-me-up, my nurse is good to me.
My mouth has been replenished with a set of new white teeth; I thought it best to have that done before they bought my wreath. I look forward to my time in Heaven, but perhaps it’s just as well, That I can still enjoy life now – in case I go to Hell.
Roland's Ragbag 