The following is a poem about Scrabble, sort of. Written in March 2003, it pre-dates Words With Friends and WWF wouldn’t work for this scenario anyway. That said and completely unrelated to this post, I’m still addicted to WWF, probably due to my love of words. More recently (today), I updated the poem with two new stanzas. I hope you enjoy it. If you don’t, well just don’t tell me, okay? Appreciate it.
Challenge of the Tiles
Marching across the board,
tiles line up in regimented form.
Corner to corner, each rides
its individual square with precision.
Studying the tiles in my tray,
I await your next play … willing
you to add that vital letter … setting
me up for the double word score.
Across the table your eyes meet mine,
you slowly smile and reach for a tile.
ROOM becomes GROOM and
I am dismayed — that word hadn’t occurred!
Sparkling catches my eye and
looking more closely, I spy atop
the letter G a circlet of gold
crowned with a fiery rock.
I pore over the board and
find no Y, but there in the corner
is an I, to which I add O and U,
grinning as you translate.