Sundry word games are making me daft.
I pretend they’re improving my craft.
But I’ll play till I drop,
Though I know I should stop.
Now I’m drowning. Don’t laugh! Where’s my raft?
(Games Day falls each year on December 20th.)
Sundry word games are making me daft.
I pretend they’re improving my craft.
But I’ll play till I drop,
Though I know I should stop.
Now I’m drowning. Don’t laugh! Where’s my raft?
(Games Day falls each year on December 20th.)
Dear Bee, though I hate to complain,
Your word list is clearly insane.
How dare you exclude
“Trayf” and “ranty!” That’s rude!
And no “tarty?” You’re taunting my brain!
I’ve been bilked once again by the Bee.
It rejects kosher entries with glee.
My claim’s not debatable:
Spurning “deflatable”
Violates fairness! (Says Me!)
“Nemonic” is tricky to spell,
And my efforts to spell it: Pell-mell!
Since my problem is chronic.
I’ve tried a “kneemonic,”
Which hurls me to memory hell.
Frustration’s a puzzling norm
When in word games like Wordle you’re warm:
You need one letter more
And you’re pissed to the core;
You’ve guessed “story” and “stork,” but it’s “storm.”
Though he’s brilliant, my husband can’t spell.
And his less/fewer usage? Pell-mell!
But despite his word-hurdle,
He beats me at Wordle…
And kvells as I yell, “What fresh hell!”
After encountering a colo(u)rful complaint about my new favorite word game “Wordle,” I felt compelled to write this limerick:
Some harbo(u)r a gripe against “Wordle,”
Cuz their labo(u)rs encounter a hurdle:
Just one “u” used in rumo(u)r?
This causes ill humo(u)r…
And apparently makes their blood curdle.
A fellow I know can’t spell “sneeze;”
Also “breezes” and “freezes” and “cheese.”
Though he always tries hard,
His spelling is marred;
Triple “e’s” make the man ill at ease.