"The Spanish Game" A Poem

Jul 2, 2008, 12:56 PM |

Here is a poem I wrote, inspired by the Spanish Game. 

I hope you enjoy.


The Spanish Game 

In a kingdom of dark and light,

eight by eight in circum-sight,

a gaping battle line was hew,

‘twixt kings and hearty retinue.


Behind a wave of pawns they stood,

this royal blood infused in wood,

and began to plot their violent coup

to rout and rend the other crew.


Flanked first by Towers full of might

and next by steeds supporting Knights,

Advisors guard the Royal Two,

attacking all within purview.


And in each court they proudly schemed

of fork, and pin, and ruinous themes,

to cast upon the other lot

a curse; let loss be your burden, and mine not!.


How vain! As yet these swarms were calm

as fits the calm before a storm,

but here the peace was ripped apart

by a single stab, at the enemy heart!


Then stab met stab, and battle stalled,

till Knight f3! the fair King called,

and to this gesture the other knew

that Knight c6! would see him through.


And so deployed by each their few,

with fearsome purpose, their retinue.

A pin, a counter, a pin renewed!

A stalwart block to pin ensued… 


Yet pin with pin their parries met,

and equilibrious blood was let;

with each fell blow retainers fled

to join the ranks of honored dead,


till stood four royals with shifty glance,

with each a pawn in royal stance. 

A Queen, a King, and Princess now,

battle-weary and hot, but proud.


Yet here at last, in brief respite,

their hatred embers of neon light;

a Pyrrhic end was all but sure,

and the haughty kings were now demure.


So with cautious step did each advance,

wary of the circumstance,

toward the weakened house of foe,

to drive the final, fateful blow.


And by this dance each house did see,

the loss of one so brave-naïve,

she fancied face the other’s Queen,

but found her breast pierced, and the other's sword keen!


At last this woe, too much to bear,

left Light and Dark rife with despair,

who in their greedy struggles thought

victory for one, the other naught!


But never could they have foreseen

a fate so cruel and wholly mean;

the day was lost, both houses knew.

So with tearful eyes, and trembling too,
they shook hands, with grief, and solemnly drew.



-Brandon J. Owens