wordle (the poem)
All of a sudden, the world has gone wordle crazy.
This poem is about that.
wordle (the poem)
by susan © 2022
wordle (the poem)
puzzle lovers please beware
or josh will catch you in his snare
a game so cool he has created
that appetites are never sated
he calls the puzzle simply wordle
thirty blanks comprise its hurdles
fill them up with squares of green
do a fist pump at your screen
guess five letters, you have six tries
and once a day your brain will fry
put them in the rightful order
and you’ll become a word decoder
if your mind should start to curdle
just fix it with a tighter girdle
one that wraps around your head
and makes your face turns shades of red
hours and days, months and weeks
you’ll waste them all when you’re a wordle freak
don’t worry though, you won’t be alone
we’re like ten million dogs with bones
can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t go outside
we’re spinning on this spelling ride
juggling vowels or tees and esses
sorting out our wordle messes!
© 2022 Susan Macaulay. I invite you to share my poetry and posts widely, but please do not reprint, reblog or copy and paste them in their entirety without my permission. Thank you.
note to self: do not argue with people whose purpose is to argue
