Playing Scrabble with Shakespeare and Marlowe

Playing Scrabble with Shakespeare and Marlowe

by Kelp

I wasn’t sure if they’d want to play.
The double entendre of “play” versus “play,”
Could cause them to sway, or perhaps turn away.

Because these were serious men of letters.
For them the page and the stage were fetters.
But they acquiesced so they might assess who among them was the better.

Both of them had a strong inclination
Toward fierce and ferocious competition.
“May the best gent win” Will Shakespeare said, with no condition or inhibition.

And there we sat, it was just we three.
At the table was Shakespeare, Marlowe and me,
And the contrasts between us were soon plain to see.

As I read out the rules, both of them smiled,
And commenced their selection of seven square tiles,
Snapping them up like rapacious crocodiles.

Marlowe’s game was as blunt as his blade.
“Curse” was the first of the words that he played.
(The words he’d display could sometimes be staid.)

It was my turn now and I made use of the “s”
In “curse” to make the obverse word “bless,”
And set up Mr. Shakespeare with great politesse.

He sighed and confessed “It’s my billet doux”.
His word was “sorrow”. “Which I try to eschew!”
With a triple letter score for the “w”. 

And now Mr. Marlowe, whose nickname was “Kit,”
Produced a word to launch a thousand ships.
He was palpably proud of his word: “counterfeit”

I blamed my letters, when I should have blamed myself.
If I thought I could win, I was kidding myself.
The best I could conjure was the four-lettered “self”

Shakespeare quipped “to thine own self be true”!
His next word was “radiance” and he very well knew
That as the game wore on he was beating us two.

This was much to the dismay of Marlowe,
Who made a great effort, was a wonderful fellow,
But, alas, could not surpass the skills of his foe.

The highlight of the night I’m sure you’d adore:
Shakespeare’s “quizzical” on a triple word score!
Kit Marlowe nearly fell off his chair to the floor.

“I only like games I can win!” Marlowe said.
“Quizzical, indeed! What goes on in your head?
And anyway, where did you find that second ‘zed’? 

Shakespeare just grinned. “It’s magic, I guess.
I assure you I’m not one to cheat … or impress.
To fabricate letters – with this I’ve been blest.”

And such was my scrabble night with these bards.
No words were challenged, no words were too hard.
I was happy just to play, Kit was okay, but Shakespeare shone like the stars.