"New Year's Poem"
As each year comes to a close
I think of years that past.
I wonder how many more I'll have
Before I have my last.
I think about the things I've done
And the people that I've met.
I think about the places I've been
And those I've not seen yet.
I might have had a different life;
Become rich or gained great fame;
But even given another chance;
I would probably choose the same.
No need to think about such things.
When we're put to the test
We make our choices based on needs
And hope they are the best.
There's no such thing as a perfect life.
There will always be regret,
But try to make this coming year
Your very best one yet.
"What Is Love" a Valentine's Day poem
Is "love" just a word you say
When "like" is what you meant?
It should not be, for, you see,
It conveys the wrong extent.
You can "like" or "really like"
A certain food, let's say.
You can "appreciate" or "enjoy"
A good book or a play.
It can be "pleasurable" listening to
Your favorite music style.
Your pet can make you "happy"
And it can make you smile.
But "LOVE" you should use sparingly
When joy and tenderness
Swell your heart with feelings
No other word can express.
Tell someone you "love" them,
On this Valentine's Day,
Only if you're sure the words
Are what you meant to say.
"Oops! Wrong Chatbox!"
(Chatboxes are a
blessing - but can be a curse if you accidently send one to the wrong person. I have done it more than once - and this poem is based on one that was sent to me).
There is this Dane I met
Playing bridge on the "net."
He plays an awesome game.
He likes to joke.
He's a very nice bloke.
(X X X) is his name.
He accused me of cheating
At our very first meeting,
But it was a chatbox mistake.
When he realized.
I think that that was great.
Then one fine day
He asked me to play
And I suggested MP.
I played okay,
I'm happy to say.
He may play again with me. :-))
"A Wedding Poem"
(A player here on Swan asked me to write her a poem she could read to her husband-to-be at their wedding, I kept it fairly
simple because English was not her first language. I am removing the player's name and that of the groom for privacy reasons).
I, (blank), love you (blank).
You're the man of my dreams.
You are kind and respectful,
And you love me, it seems.
I feel so fullfilled
When I look in your eyes.
I feel pretty and witty
And wonderfully wise.
You make me feel safe.
I feel so secure.
You'll let no one harm me;
Of that I am sure.
Two things that a marriage
Needs are a must,
And I give you them gladly;
Both my love - and my trust.
"That is Bridge"
Win some, lose some; that is bridge,
Or any game of skill.
Bid some, pass some; that is bridge,
And it can test your will.
Smile some, sigh some; that is bridge.
It can be frustrating.
Set some, get some; that is bridge.
It can also be elating.
Play some, talk some; that is Swan,
No better place to play.
Awesome, wholesome; that is Swan,
On this its 9th birthday.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SWAN BRIDGE! :-)
I love the table invitations
From players with some wit,
Like the offer of "peace and serenity"
If you will come and sit.
One player promises "redemption"
To "lost souls" who come to play.
He is a sneaky "devil,"
So he just might make you pay.
One guest asked an "advanced" to join,
But his invite got him none,
So each skill request got lower.
The last was for a BLIND one.
There are enticing invitations
For varying degrees of nudeness.
They may sound a bit risque',
But there's "virtually" no lewdness.
One player asks you join the GIB,
Where the BOTS are telling jokes.
He insists those formidable fellows
Are really quite nice folks.
So keep them coming, jokesters!
They are really fun to read.
And if my bridge isn't going well,
They lift my spirits - indeed! :-)
"The Friendliest Bridge on the Net"
For the friendliest bridge on the net,
Swan is the best you can get.
For helpful folks,
For fun and jokes,
No one has beaten it yet.
I tried another site,
But it never did feel right.
I was just a name;
I never fit in, quite.
No one asks you to play.
No one cares if you stay.
You plop in a seat,
Win or get beat,
And then you go on your way.
Specing was called kibitz.
This really was the pits.
Your name's in a box,
And no one talks.
I thought I'd lose my wits.
I tried to chat a few.
I told them I was new.
After being ignored,
I got bored,
And to Swan's site I flew.
So "Happy Birthday, Swan!"
May you go on and on.
Making bridge pleasurable,
And memories treasurable;
Worth looking back upon.
Do you suppose they call it BRIDGE
Because something must convey
Messages to our partners
In order for us to play?
Do you think it's called FINESSE
'Cuz it's such a sneaky thing
To force out the hiding place
Of someone's queen or king?
I wonder why we call them TRICKS.
Do we really fool someone?
Are they a kind of magic act
That someone does for fun?
Could the source of TRUMP be "trumpet"
'Cuz it heralds royalty?
And the other suits are rank and file;
Not worth as much, you see.
RUFF, I think, explains itself,
Though the spelling is not right.
It's "rough" to lose a trick to trump
If you din't think you might.
A SLUFF is just a useless thing;
A card you didn't need,
But picking out the right one
Can be hard - indeed.
Why six tricks are called a BOOK
Must mean you have, in fact,
To complete this first assignment
Before negotiating your CONTRACT.
I might not have the origins right,
But I hope that you can see,
I've given a lot of thought to this.
They all make sense to me. :-)
"Semantics - Word Games"
Not all players are nice,
So here's some advice
On how to handle their antics.
Don't summon the devil
And fall to their level,
Just use some clever semantics. :-)
Critics may make you mad
When they say your bidding was bad.
(They can't see your "Drop dead!" look)
So you just might say,
"Well, I learned how to play
From reading your latest bridge book."
When a player leaves the table
Because the contract was unmakeable
Then sneakily logs in again?
Announce in the chat
"The sub that sat
Kept the loss to only down 10."
Those players who like playing fast?
And say, "This game is my last.
This table is way too slow."
When THEY hesitate,
Say,"Since I had to wait,
Do you think I should threaten to go?"
To the "experts" who say,
"Your profile we'll play,"
Then promptly play their own game?
Say, " That bid was confusing,
Since it's not one I'm using.
Is it one that bears your name?"
The players who give lessons
At all of their sessions
And are frequently wrong - at that?
"You shouldn't teach for free,
So if all here agree,
Perhaps we can pass the hat?"
A thing we all hate
Is having to wait
For a play that is a "must."
To this player I'd say,
"You might as well play.
You've no ace up your sleeve I trust?"
So in conclusion
To this contribution
I will admit there will always be
Players, not nice,
But if you'll take my advice,
You'll have more fun, you'll see. :-)
"GOT BOT? WHY NOT?"
You play with a BOT
And what have you got?
A slightly flawed machine.
His bids may confuse you,
And may not amuse you,
But at least he isn't mean.
He won't say, "Play faster!"
In hopes of a disaster
Created by rushing your game.
He also won't say,
"That was poor play!"
Telling all that you were to blame.
He won't leave a hand,
Forgetting to stand,
Cussing you out as he goes.
And he won't say,
"Learn how to play!"
(We all have met some of THOSE).
He can't say, "Well done!"
When a contract you've won,
But be happy with what you've got.
He's patient, you'll find,
So you'll have peace of mind.
A conversationalist he is not.
A BOT just reacts
To a set of known facts
Stored in a chip, not a brain.
He spouts his conventions,
His rules and intentions,
And tries not to lose, but to gain. :-)
Posted by: winsome
"Bridge is a Game"
"It's just a game. I play for fun,"
I see many people say.
If I may, let me explain
Why I don't feel that way.
Bridge has many variables.
Your brain can never rest.
Making the right choices
Can be the ultimate test.
Even if you are playing for fun
You should try to improve your skill.
You may not care if you win or lose,
But I'll bet your partner will.
"Some Days ........"
Bridge is like a lot of games
I've played throughout the years.
Some days are full of smiles
Other days there's almost tears.
Some days you think your rating
Is way below your skill.
Other days you're sure your mind
Left and went "over the hill."
Some days you can't wait to play
So you can show your stuff.
Other days you can't wait to leave.
You know you've had enough.
Some days the cards are with you
And everything goes right.
Other days you can't make anything
Though you try with all your might.
The moral of this story is
"unknowns make games fun."
Where would the challenge be -
If you always won? :-)
"What's the Score?"
Most people who play a sport or game
Compete to be the best.
It's natural that you want to win
And score better than the rest.
Life is about competition;
For love, for honor, for reward.
Its how some achieve these goals
That causes some discord.
If winning becomes so important
That you must use deceit,
Then you haven't won at all,
As you really didn't compete.
A victory gained by cheating,
Even if your score is high,
Doesn't really prove that you
Are better than another guy.
Do you smile when opps make a mistake?
Do you laugh when you use some trick?
Does making others feel inferior to you
The obsession that makes you tick?
What pride can you have in a score
When it is one you didn't earn?
Do you think it's right to win a game
That you took no time to learn?
If you work hard to hone your skills
You will win on your own accord.
Imagine the self-esteem you'll gain
If you know you deserve your reward.
The Swan bridge site welcomes all
Who love to play the game.
If you could list all they know
No two would play the same.
Some players are true beginners.
They try their best each day.
They have come to Swan to practice
And learn watching others play.
Why discourage their efforts?
Why call them a demeaning name?
Don't those players remember
When they were learning the game?
What purpose does is serve
To very rudely say,
"Partner, you don't know bridge,"
Or "Get lessons before you play."
Some rate themselves above their skill.
We've all seen some that do,
But what difference does it make?
How does this fact affect you?
If your partners lacks your skill,
Then as soon as you are able,
Thank them for playing
And find another table.
Why embarrass a player?
Why make a scene?
Why is it necessary
To say things that are mean?
When you were learning
Did someone do this to you?
Do you think this gives you the right?
Now you must do it too?
The name you see upon your screen
Is a person who likes bridge play.
You should treat that player with respect
And then go on your way.
Most players are nice people
Even if their play is weak.
They don't deserve your rudeness,
So think before you speak.
"A California Spring"
Spring has sprung and summer's near,
And melodic bird songs do I hear.
The dull brown grass has turned to green,
And small green tree leaves can be seen.
Fruit trees have commenced to bloom,
And have replaced the winter's gloom.
Their fragrance makes the air so sweet.
And promises us a summer's treat.
Wildflowers blossom everywhere,
And light breezes move the air.
Tractors make a rumbling sound
As the farmers prepare their ground.
Bountiful crops will fill this soil,
Making their time worth their toil.
California is a beautiful and diverse state.
These are some things that make it great.
"The Story of St. Patrick"
St. Patrick was not an Irishman,
But a Brit or Scot, was he,
Or perhaps he was a Frenchman,
Though born in Italy.
He set not a foot in Ireland
Until seventeen years he'd be,
When Irish marauders captured him
And took him across the sea.
They sold him to pagan Druids,
And a slave he'd be
'Til to a French isle monastery
He was finally able to flee.
Years later he returned to Ireland,
To teach Christianity
To the pagan Druids
Who lacked humanity.
"Twas believed he used the shamrock,
Their petals numbering three;
To show Father, son and holy ghost;
Thus the holy trinity.
He was creditted with many "miracles,"
Though I think you might agree,
That ridding Ireland of all its snakes
Is a bit of fantasy.
Turning darkness into light
But perhaps it's really based
On a bit of history.
So endeared was Patrick
When he died fifth century,
The many candles lit for him
Turned night into day, you see.
"Hippity Hop" an Easter poem
Hippity hop! Hippity hop!
Here he comes again;
That silly Easter bunny
Who thinks he is a hen.
He brings colored eggs to children,
Along with lots of sweets,
Most of which, I'm sad to say,
Are quite unhealthy treats.
Since rabbits are vegetarians
You'd think that he would know
The giving of all that candy
Is not the way to go.
I think I'll find his warren
And plug it up this year,
Then invite the family
To a wholesome dinner here.
If you like people who talk as they play,
Wishfulthinking will make your day.
Specing her is contageous.
When her partners are jocks
She constantly mocks
With chat that's really outrageous.
Y'all know him.
His wisecracks entertain you.
He teases and jokes
With all youse folks
(He may be a little insane too).
A saddle, of course,
Belongs on a horse,
And he prefers a filly.
To his barn he'll invite you
For rubdowns to excite you.
But he won't do it - or will he?
A "Yahoo" on the screen
Means MyLloyd's on the scene
And his CAPs LOCK will get a workout.
With words of great size.
He wants you to heed them - no doubt.
"UGH" or "OLE"
Are what you will say
To spec Mads or Malkwaii.
Throw in Martingo
With his clever -"ish" lingo,
With "Jack" on his shoulder to spy.
There's a Hansen named RobinRoy.
To spec him is a joy.
He talks to the specs as he plays.
He gives you "lessons"
At these humerous sessions
As he walks you through every phase.
Bill Higgins has a teaching table;
Monday through Friday - when able.
At 8pm EDT it begins.
"Think!" he will say,
Then "undo" the play,
And let you correct your bridge sins.
Siegmund is nuts,
No "if," "ands," or "buts,"
When playing with WildandCrazy.
This late night pair
Has a comedy flair
At a time my mind goes hazy.
Curnon is "Tony"
And he's full of baloney.
He never misses a thing.
Is where he's at.
As a jokester he's a king.
Geefan, the muse,
Pays his dues
By quoting from Socrates.
He will emote
Some profound note,
But really, he's just a tease.
Is the pampsbridge bloke.
British he is - "Indeed!"
His English is impeccable.
His bridge game is specable.
You just KNOW he's wearing tweed.
There are a lot of nice folk
To play with or joke,
Or learn bridge from as you spec.
They make the bridge fun
Whether you've lost or you've won,
So get out there and "Hit the deck!"
(I just had to get that last thing in there somewhere :-) hehe
"Twas the Night Before Christmas - at Swan"
(*Explanation: When I posted this poem several players asked who the woman was that I was referring to in it. I mistakenly thought most everyone who
read the Forum would recognize the "woman with a whip" as our fearless Swan leader, Laila, since many jokes have been made about her carrying a one. The poem is all in fun).
"Twas the night before Christmas, when on the Swan site,
The bridge buffs were ready to play through the night.
There were cards being dealt and cards being played.
Some hands went down while others were made.
The players were all comfy in their own special chairs,
Ready to claim all the tricks that were theirs.
I, as usual, was spectating, it seems,
Watching others make the plays of my dreams.
When all of a sudden I heard a door squeak,
And decided to give the Swan lobby a peek;
Always curious to note who is entering the scene,
Whether friend or foe, if you know what I mean.
The name was familiar and she carried a whip,
Resting in a scabbard she wore on her hip.
"Hello, everyone!" she greeted the crowd.
"Hi!" they responded, both friendly and loud.
"I've brought some nice gifts for those who are good.
I would give them to all, if only I could.
But bridge is a game with rules you must follow.
You must earn your gifts or the points become hollow."
She moved through the rooms noting methods of play.
If nothing was amiss, she'd move on her way.
She watched what was said and in what form,
Seeing that no one strayed from the norm.
If reasonable variations of bridge play she'd see,
And comments were made to which she'd agree,
The player's wouldn't hear that very loud "Crack!"
And feel the sting of the whip on their back.
She noted some names with games that were few,
And thought it quite obvious these players were new.
She acknowledged the players in a most pleasant way
And told them she hoped they would have a fine day.
The door squeak told us she'd left once again.
She would be back, but we didn't know when.
We all heard her say, as she left the site.
"Happy Holidays, my friends, and to all a goodnight!".
"Happy Holidays!" a Christmas poem
'Twas the night before Christmas,
And here on Swan Lake,
The cygnets were playing;
Their hands trying to make.
There were smiling faces
And much Christmas cheer,
Though no one could see them,
Nor sounds could they hear.
There are many faiths
Here on this site,
So not all see this
As a special night.
But all creeds have beliefs
That hope to succeed
In encouraging kindness
In each word and deed.
With these thoughts in mind,
The differences are small.
With love and acceptance
There will be peace for us all.