Long Mah jongg Poems
Long Mah jongg Poems. Below are the most popular long Mah jongg by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mah jongg poems by poem length and keyword.
If you have bridge chairs, playing bridge
Is not their only use.
Try mah jongg or canasta -
Any game needs no excuse.
Or set them up for extra guests
So everyone can sit,
Especially if there’s
A fold-up table where they’ll fit.
The same goes for a coffee cup,
For cocoa or some tea
Can fill it up as well as java -
Wouldn’t you agree?
Of course, that coffee cup may rest
Upon a coffee table,
Which may hold books or magazines,
Despite its coffee label.
And yet, if you’ve a bookcase,
You may get some eye-roll looks
If the shelves have only knickknacks,
When it’s meant for holding books.
Some people play* for money.
My friends and I do not,
But every time we play, we toss
Five dollars in the pot.
Our games are only once a month
But still, the pile does grow
So there’s enough to have a meal
And see a Broadway show.
That sounds like a solution
Yet it’s not a simple task.
Five different busy women –
What’s the problem, you might ask.
Because we must concur on
Both a date and then a play,
There’s never a consensus
So each month we just delay.
Our bankroll keeps increasing
Though there is no guarantee
That we’ll ever spend that money
For we simply can’t agree!
*mah jongg, a game played with tiles
I used to mark the days by what
I’d scheduled to do,
Like Fridays with the grandkids
For our weekly rendezvous.
On Thursdays there was quilting
And on Wednesdays, never fear,
I’d be at the museum where
I am a volunteer.
On Tuesdays I’d play mah jongg
Once a month, or else I’d go
With my husband to a movie
Or museum for a show.
On Mondays, with some friends, I’d meet
To walk and have a meal
In places in the city that
We’d heard had some appeal.
The weekends often took me
With my daughter and my spouse
Out to rural Pennsylvania
Where we own a country house.
Yet now the days meld into one –
No differentiation –
With all of my activities
On permanent vacation.
It’s meaningless to call each day,
Like Sunday, by its name
At least to me, for in my life,
They’re sadly, all the same.
Today my aunt turns 98
And for her age, she’s doing great,
So we came down to celebrate,
The least that we can do.
We schmoozed a little yesterday
With snacks we picked up on the way
And brought an ice cream treat today
(Since I had craved one, too).
Then on to mah jongg in a place
Where seniors gather, face to face,
To play a game they all embrace
(The rules of which I knew).
Two hours flew by and then back where
Three huge bouquets were waiting there,
Plus cards and phone calls, all to share
Her birthday, right on cue.
Tonight, there’ll be a dinner out;
That’s what a birthday’s all about,
And at that age, there is no doubt
Best wishes sure are due.
My mother didn’t cook too well
And neither did she bake.
If you’d assume she loved to clean,
That would be a mistake.
She didn’t drive, she didn’t work
But she was always there.
If comfort was required, well,
She had the time to spare.
If something needed fixing,
She’s the one who’d man the tools
And raising us, it’s she who made us
Follow all the rules.
She was athletic, playing tennis
When she had the chance
And at a party, she would be
The first to start to dance.
She loved her games and puzzles,
Playing mah jongg every week
And did crosswords in the paper,
With an always-finish streak.
My mom’s been gone for years, yet on
Her birthday I recall
That, despite her flaws, without her
I would not be here at all.
Mah Jongg is a game that’s strange
‘Cause every year the cards will change,
So you may try to play a hand
That once was there at your command
But now that pattern isn’t there,
Which feels a little bit unfair.
Until you learn the latest card,
The challenges are really hard,
For you might try to reconcile
The hand you’re dealt with what’s on file
Within your brain from last year’s sets
And that’s as tricky as it gets.
Each formula appears askew.
Repeating old ones is taboo;
And though it is a tad confusing,
There’s no upside to refusing.
Everyone must be on board;
Acceptance is its own reward.
The more you play, the more you’ll learn
And soon enough, when it’s your turn,
You’ll realize you’ve absorbed the new,
Like all the Mah Jongg players do;
But once you’re comfy, only then –
They’ll go and change the card again!
There aren't many games I play
For most of them require
Some patience and some strategy
Or, at the least, desire.
I quite enjoy my "Words with Friends"
But usually I lose.
The very first word that I see
Is likely what I'll choose.
Of course, I should peruse the board
And calculate the score,
But doing that would make the game
A stultifying bore.
My mah jongg buddies hem and haw
Before they make their move.
I play real fast so rarely win;
The pros would disapprove.
For competition means that all
The effort we extend
Should serve to help us play the game
And win it in the end.
The only real advantage
Of my non-competing flair
Is that when I see the outcome,
If I lose, I hardly care.
The women far outnumber
All the ticket-holding men
And they’re decked out in their jewels
They haven’t worn since who-knows-when.
Their outfits are forgiving,
Hiding several extra pounds
And their make-up makes them glow,
Although some wrinkling abounds.
They’re delighted just to be there
On an outing with some friends,
All who rush out to the bathroom
Just as soon as Act I ends.
Most obey and shut their cell phones
And their candies they unwrap,
But there’s always one whose ringtone
Jingles loudly from her lap.
When the curtain falls, they bundle
In their coats, all set to go
And with hugs they part until
Next book club, mah jongg game or show.