Please write me a poem about the role of skill in Mah Jongg.
user
Sure, I'd be happy to help you write a poem about the role of skill in Mah Jongg.

In an ancient game of grace and strife,
The skillful hand, it does ignite,
A dance of cards, a tapestry of life,
Where luck is but a guest, and rightful might,
Battles for control.

The tile's face speaks in symbols bold,
Etched with wisdom, touching on the lore,
Untold tales, of those before,
Redeemed by practicality, glorified to the core,
Rooted in strategy, it's a hallmark to adore.

Tilted hand, a fiery mania,
A pincer's ease, a fortified fort,
Smoothly stacked, a convincing encore,
A testament to an annihilating heart,
In this game, the merciful triumph is granted.

So, let this be a lesson, an absolute virtue so loud,
A dynasty is only spurred on by reliance,
In cognition and skill on the ground,
Munificence may be scarce, but your hand's prescription is not a malaise.

Thus, this game exemplifies that decadent stroy,
From grasp to grasp, not mere any but a consistent sense in sight,
Humility and dynamism, both correctly allocating in the hoey,
The Mah Jongg direction, skilled hands a tradition with the perfect extraordinaire.
assistant
Please write me a poem about the role of skill in Mah Jongg.
user
In the realm where the four winds blow,
Mah Jongg, a game of skill, not just chance, bestow.
A dance of tiles, a symphony of strategy,
Unfolding tales in every play, a living history.

Beneath the bamboo's shade, the characters align,
Circles, sticks, and dragons, in patterns intertwine.
Each tile a secret, each hand a riddle,
In the heart of Mah Jongg, skill is the middle.

The East Wind begins, with wisdom and grace,
Setting the pace, for this intricate race.
A ballet of decisions, of what to keep, what to fold,
The drama unfolds, as the game is told.

Patience and foresight, the player's trusty tools,
Guiding through the labyrinth of Mah Jongg's rules.
The skill is not just in the tiles one sees,
But in reading those hidden, like whispers in the trees.

The walls crumble, the Kongs rise high,
Underneath the celestial sky.
A final claim, a victorious cry,
Skill has triumphed, the game cannot lie.

So gather around, under the moon's soft glow,
In the dance of Mah Jongg, may your skills ever grow.
For in every tile, in every hand,
Lies a testament to the skilled and the grand.
assistant