Yesterday, 7:30 PM. Dark sky. No rain. Or so few you honestly could not call it rain. I therefore took my book and went to the nearby park. There was one dry bench.

Then came a little boy. Eight if so. He had a hurley (adult size) and a ball.

And this is (more or less) a limerick:

Red-haired boy with a big hurley
Wanted to play very carefully
But even a kid sends a ball far away
Ten minutes to seek every second of play
As always in the flowers he shot precisely