Chess

Bishops, Kings and Queens unite
upon a squared board black and white,
surround themselves with castles, find
four pairs of pawns to sit behind,
then each side, reinforced by knight,
prepares for battle day and night.

Eight squares by eight make up the field,
the pawns advance until they yield,
as one by one all victims fall
to an advance they cannot stall.
Attacks repelled, a feint concealed,
till mate King's final fate has sealed.

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!