Bingo Lingo Poem by S.D. TIWARI

Bingo Lingo



People reach League club, with a great zeal.
Sit in the Bingo hall, and hope for best deal.
Take one twenty cards and the bingo marker.
Wait eagerly, for the first call of the Caller.

Sit very calm and quite, players, everyone.
Like they are set, for college examination.
Bingo game is hosted, by a lovely team.
But that hardly lets come, true my dream.

I too get excited, to play here Bingo
Sometimes stuck in luck, sometimes in lingo.
Caller calls thirty one, get up and run.
I go on waiting, bakers bun sixty one.

Always get confused between tees and teens.
When called sixty, heart listens sweet sixteen.
I do mix-up twenty five and thirty five,
whether it's duck and dive or jump and jive.

Lucky seven, never gives, slice of heaven.
and needed number ten, goes to uncle Ben.
Number four too, rarely knocks my door.
Sometimes wait fifty four, to clean the floor.

One of the Kelly's eyes, has always defied.
Only lucky number five, keeps the game alive.
Once I claimed 'Bingo' of being early bird.
The call went bad because of mis-heard.

Any colour goes; yellow, orange or blue.
Even top of the shop does't favour too.
Eighty eight goes, to the ladies who are fat.
They shop the house, and I keep on to wait.

I catch the legs eleven and little duck fast.
But that doesn't fetch, any fruitful upshot.
All the times I wish, to listen from the caller.
Numbers of choice for twenty five dollars.

It's a fact together, we come here for fun.
Time pass is aim, conquest the next concern.
We win or not the prize, that doesn't matter.
Yet we win lot of fun, company and chatter.



(C) S. D. Tiwari

Thursday, December 4, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: society
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