Pond Poetry: The Best Hand Played

The green felt on the table was soft,
Down here in Jerry’s loft,
No one knew the hands that would be played.
Lady Luck sat at the table,
Jerry and Mike would provide the drinks to enable,
The best bets that could’ve been made.

The dealer doled out an off-suit Queen and Six,
I’m sure the others at the table caught a better mix,
Big blind was on me so I decided to check.
The flop delivered an instant Queen Two-Pair,
I decided to raise the bet, who would dare?
Lady Luck revealed her tell, scratching her neck.

Jerry checked his cards twice and would fold,
Mike winced, called, waiting for what would unfold.
Lady Luck sighed and cried “All in!”
I made the call and on the turn,
A six fell; my chips began to burn.
I pushed in the amount of Mike’s chip count and declared “Let the games begin!”

Mike made the call,
Giving up his chips and all,
And down on the river a Second Queen fell.
Standing up from his chair Mike began to shout,
“You ain’t got nothin’, go on – get out!”
I lifted my sunglasses, a Full House of Queens and Sixes, was the best hand; we could all tell.’

Lady Luck began to swoon,
Jerry chuckled and howled like a loon,
Mike arose from his chair and said, “That’s unfair!”
I raked in the chips,
Put a finger to my lips,
And whispered, “I’ll see you next week Mike, if you dare.”