At the junction of 'across' and 'down'
The double-duty letter bears the strain
Of intersecting words, which devilry
Has crucified in clues to prod the brain.
Clues that cunningly conceal their sense,
As if to solve their Delphic Oracles
Would so unlock a Power beyond the power
Of squares to dam up what the pencil fills.
Words submit themselves to patterned blanks
And reproduce the master plan exact,
Like Star Trek heroes energised they go
From frame to frame, assembling up intact.
What Compiler would not wish to spur
Such miracles of replication too?
We who have truck with words must hope for more,
A richer transference with every clue.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful crossword puzzle played in this poem. Very true said... A richer transference with every clue. In one sense our life too seems to be like this crossword puzzle only. Loved reading it.