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Rated: E · Poetry · Comedy · #965603
A lady likes to look her best even when she's scrabbling to get to the top

Night on the tiles


She sits smiling in deep concentration
Making sure, life fits
Looking in
Happy anticipation

Suddenly, after a moments hesitation
She changes her position
Donning a new outfit
That fits her mood
Leaving no spilt infinitive

Now she is like the cat with the cream
Standing tall amongst her friends
Some slow, some more able
Looking delicious,
Waiting at table.

Finally she is ready,
Ready for a night on the tiles.
This was for real,
Not here to dabble,
Oh how she loved
Playing her Scrabble
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