a poem for chess players

Jun 29, 2012, 5:11 AM |


a game of chess we play
our best.
the moves we make we hope
will take
the mind is set in a mode
of contest
the battle ground on sixty
four squares.
pieces laid out all set fair

the battle begins in a slow
stately way
piece by piece in a dashing
vieing for position,intellect
obeying the rule
move the wrong piece appearing
the fool.

now were in the end game ,the end
is in sight.
losses  to be encountered one will
lose the fight.
thrown from the battle ground the king
is laid bare.
checkmate is the dreaded word as the
game folds in dispair.
Copyright © Ken Newman