Scrabble

The thing about scrabble, Is one should never burst a bubble, Accept the tiles that fall your way, In lieu of falling affray. A Z in your rack, Now to plan your attack, A triple letter you see, Please keep it for me. A blank in your stock, Now I'm ahead of the flock, A bingo in mind, Now where can I find? My opponent not grinning, Now that I am winning, No more tiles in the bag, But I am trying not to brag, I play the last tiles on my rack, But is that enough? A close game in the end, But always a friend, Win, lose or draw, I extend It's the company, I savour, As scrabble will never go out of favour. By Michael Robinson - my Nephew