Puzzles

Tiny pieces scattered on

A tilting tabletop

Seeking interlock with mates

To make the puzzle come together.

 

Jumbled letters scrambled

Hither tither in my harried head

Til pieces find their fitting

In a field of fragrant heather.

 

Riddles riding roughshod through

A misty muddled maze,

Twisting unpredictably,

Uncertain as the weather.

 

And though you find fruition

In your wise and witty ways

Another puzzle plagues with sinewy

Jaws as tough as leather.

 

Still the puzzle baits me

With a cajolery I hate,

Until I find the answers

The rest will have to wait.

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