Are we just Scrabbling in the dark?
Shining our torches on random ‘triple-word’ scores
In the hope that ‘quazajx’
Will win the game
Save the day
Carp the diem?
Or are we just pawns
On a chequered path
moving slowly towards a checkmate of sorts.
Are we orange Revels?
Or stale biscuits
Past our prime?
Are we asking Mr. Wolf the time
Much too often
As of late?
Are we just broken twigs
After the walker has passed by
One more remove from life’s journey?
Are we the sunset
Rather than the sunrise?
Are we nearing a conclusion?
Rather than asking those probing questions as we did long ago?
I am very nearly empathetic
Just lacking the ’em’ –
Which is probably one of those
‘short words’ in Scrabble.
I tend to dribble and drool
And my speech is mere babble
On I go, never pausing for thought
Saying much more than a thinking man ought
I’ll turn to drink
And coffee’s my tipple of choice
It fires up my brain and ‘estranges’ my voice
(Strange being the operative part of that word)
Until I am not quite the man I thought I was (too much thinking going on here)
Which is not really an answer
Just an ex-clam on the sea-bed of the nation.
Did I mention coffee making my thought-processes strange?
Yup, I did!
You Scrabbled my love
And I was lost for words
You lead from the start
In the quest to win, my sweetheart;
Your planets were all and Io you a lot
But you can’t have a ‘li’ and a ‘di’
In the acceptable words ‘one’ is not
All that it could be
So, you see, I
With my Tortoise-like ways
By a Hare’s breadth have crossed the line first with my ‘up’ and my ‘ice’
The feeling of winning is okay
But, the playing with you…
That is what is so nice.