Short Mah Jongg Poems

The thunder booms; the rain, it pours.
We're half inside and half outdoors.
A screened-in porch brings Nature close
But not enough to overdose.

And so we sit and mix our tiles*
As Nature ratchets up the dials.
We gaze up at the stormy sky 
And dripping trees, while we stay dry.

At last it ebbs as we play on
Until the downpour's up and gone.
How cool to watch such changing scenes
Behind the shelter of the screens.

*mah Jongg playing pieces...

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I didn’t win at Mah Jongg,
Losing every single game,
But nonetheless I’d say
That I enjoyed it all the same.

To sit around with friends and schmooze
And then to break some bread – 
There aren’t many things that I’d
Prefer to do instead.

Though often I’m competitive,
With Mah Jongg I am not.
I’m really not too good at it,
But give it all I’ve got.

So even if I have a day
Where losing is my fate,
I still look forward very much
To my next Mah Jongg date....

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My Aunt Sydelle turned 91;
To find a gift was hard,
But then I had a great idea –
A years-old Mah Jongg card.

She’d mentioned wishing that she had
A card from ’55,
The year when she first bought her set,
To keep that time alive.

On eBay I did track one down
To match her Mah Jongg set.
Her face when she unwrapped it
Was as thrilled as one could get.

Way back in 1955
When this same card was new
No one could have quite predicted
It would make a fresh debut....

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My mah jongg buddies came today
(We’re 5 if all are able)
And thus it was my turn, as host,
To prep the folding table.

It mostly lives behind my bed,
Its metal legs tucked in,
Where it just sits and gathers dust
Until the games begin.

We play but once a month and then
We rotate where we meet
And when the table’s center stage,
The set-up is complete.

The game is over, friends have gone;
The table’s bedroom-bound,
All folded up and tucked away
Until the next go-round....

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We catch up on our travels
And our families and homes.
(Not everyone’s on Facebook
Or reveals such stuff in poems.)

The lives we live are parallel
Though sometimes they converge;
So when they do, on food
And conversation we do splurge.

The game is incidental;
Still, we try to do our best
But even if we lose all day,
It doesn’t make us stressed.

An afternoon of mah jongg
Fills the room with clacking tiles.
More important are the faces
Of the players, filled with smiles....

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