A Cricketer’s Last Boundary
Michael Ashby
Weeping willows formed an honour guard
For the cricket ball writ with a noble name
A team of ten, which had once been eleven
Would never be the same side again
No bails united the forlorn stumps
Since this wicket had fallen some days ago
And as the bowler delivered to the lone batsman
The hushed crowd willed for a six to go
The magical sound of leather on willow
The sweet smell of freshly cut grass
A cricketer crossing the last boundary
To a third innings that would forever last
About This Poem
A Cricketer’s Last Boundary by Michael Ashby uses cricket imagery to reflect on death in a gentle and personal way. It may be especially suitable for the funeral or memorial service of someone who loved cricket, played the game, or spent many happy hours watching it. The poem speaks of loss, but also of affection, memory and a life closely tied to the sport. Its familiar references to the pitch, the crowd and “leather on willow” may feel especially meaningful to family, friends and teammates. It could work well as part of a personal tribute or during a reflective moment in the service.
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