How many ways did I hit thee for a four, let me count the ways,
The hooks, the cuts, the drives, and then there were glances.
The next one merited a single run, may be one more,
But deflected by the fielder’s hand, it went for a four.
Then came the last one in the hole, in pace lacking,
But I was too brilliant for that, and sent it packing.
There Rangin, I had hit you for six boundaries in an over,
A fact I will never let you forget, you suck as a bowler.
Given the times, the fourth line could be better written as
“… deflected by Voldemort’s wand, it went …”; have never seen such a pathetic villain. As for the poem, nicely done!
Just when you thought Voldemart couldn’t get any lamer, the movie comes along and takes him down by a few notches!
Glad you like the attempt at poetry. And the incident described is true. :)