Tonight, it feels good to imagine
Playing Team Boggle with the gang,
In the dining room, getting hyper and hyper,
As the hourglass pours its last grains of sand
Like the final tears of Heaven before a rainbow.
We explore new heights of a breezy night.
Breezy. A zephyr dashes from the Pacific,
Transporting scent of salt and corals,
Silver marine creatures, and the echo of Neptune
Around the table. Contestants are bloodthirsty.
It feels healthy, a way of sharpening the edges
Of our wits, jumbling blocks, letters,
To pave the way to a starting point
That stretches, and builds, with excitement,
Down to the finish line.
Now, choirs of crickets shake their tambourines,
And then, the full moon sails overhead,
Like a slow-moving hole in a box of darkness.
Hear the encouraging cheer of a teammate,
A form of distraction to the opposing team.
We savor the wind as if it is from another universe,
While we are finding our ways in the labyrinth,
In the maze our minds have created.
Winning is hard. Accepting defeat is noble.
Our laughter is the last thing we would give up.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
excellent poem - wonderful idea