Scrabble and Wine
” I cannot remember the books I’ve read any more than the
meals I have eaten ; even so, they have made me.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson
To the library then,
what will to write when
there are three days left
in the month.
Between a tabletop
blue promise of
Bacchus,
a dance for a quick pour-
ed out twisted cryptic quip or
without knowing we do play
scrabble with these,
our old books today.
They stack sometimes, roam
sometimes starboard seas
and did someone say port.
What old wine, white chablis
dark red, silver bubbles tease
and either what cheese
or meal or rightful look
with no due, wage or fee.
A meal, a friend, a book
These, these have made me.
21 thoughts on "Scrabble and Wine"
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love the sound and rhythm in: “a quick pour-
ed out twisted cryptic quip”
Yes! to: “A meal, a friend, a book
These, these have made me.”
Truth 😊
“sometimes starboard seas
and did someone say port.”
These lines are so exceedingly clever.
L. That line made me laugh 😃
I love how giddy you from writing so poetry! Still, you made it snap, crackle and pop.
Thanks 😊
I meant to ‘how giddy you are.” I’m giddy too and I can’t talk right!
U kin tak gewd.
These, these
Feeling the “loss” of PoMo’s beauty and push all today too. All the more so because I did not have the time until now to truly pour into the day.
All fun, but that double these, and the pause it gave in the read, in the voice…was outstanding, sir
” roam / sometimes starboard seas /
and did someone say port” is too clever for words. The poem is full of wonders.
I also love the truth of “A meal, a friend, a book /These, these have made me.” It’s the generousness of this poem that strikes me
There’s a classical feel to your rhymes, which warms like a good port wine. And I love epigraph; I relate. Good stuff
The epigraph is perfect and the way you take us through the list—so satisfying, like sipping a wonderfully aged wine.
I like the understanding in the poem of all writers, dead and alive, being part of a continuig conversation with each other
I share Gaby’s sentiments. The continuing conversation that leads us to that awesome last stanza is fantastic!
Ah, yes, tabletop dancing with Bacchus. Last stanza is superb. “These, these” – sizzle!
Yes–These, these!
Delicious, Coleman! I’ve got an old set of Dickens novels with thin pages and that yummy old-book smell. I feast on them when I can.
“The distinctive smell of old books is called biblichor, which is derived from the Greek words “biblio” (book) and “ichor” (the fluid that flows like blood in the veins of the gods.”
sometimes starboard seas
and did someone say port.
What old wine,
Oh ho! Wonderful word play.
I can relate to this poem. Thank you for speaking for more than just yourself. I suspect many of us who are participants nodded while reading this. Thank you so much.