ode to the board game Boggle (c)

[amuse]

just having fun; don't take this seriously!


the cards had been
picked up 52 times;
the old maids had gone out
fishing yes we crazy, crazy
eight spinsters had too much
time on our hands
...sara started to ruminate
"oh, help!" we moaned
and buried our faces in
long black scarves -
after twenty years isn't
it all water under
the bridge??
but she went on and
on and
on well the numbers
were tired they'd done
their job, and every
combination of nCr
had been exhausted,
in fact, we'd
played hearts so long
that we started playing
for points
yes those numbers were
wilting, a sight to see,
and the letters - there are
only so many jacks, queens,
kings and aces,
you see - were
feeling rather frisky
so they went outside to
log-roll down hills and
frolic in the Spring...
and the first thing
to meet their eyes
was ragweed, and that!
is when the alphabet
sneezed.

yes, there were little babbles, boggles, and scrabbles everywhere to take care of, and we old maids all lived happily ever after.


*yes the little ones were trademarked

[mono]

Wow, he-he, I loved "Boggle"® as a child, and I have not played the game in years!
I can read these types of poems as my favorites often, as they seem so nostalgic and reminiscent, bringing an automatic smile to my face. One aspect that I have never noticed: you mentioned the nCr of the game, which I have never noticed, especially that I know you have such an interest in math, amuse - what an interesting concept.
Anyway, fantastically written, as usual, this one seeming extra sentimental, and on such a unique topic. Well done.