King for a Day.
All the Pawns would play.
Shape and stature,
White or black lacquer?
What does it matter,
if you strut along so dapper?Take this moment by the horns,
Wearing that crown of gilded thorns.
Slide along this board of squares,
Woven hues of contrasted colors are so paired.
Should you dare take the Queen from her lair?
Perhaps one of us shall become the next heir!Flaunting out our fantasies as us with blunt-faced heads.
Consider our each move, watch out to where you tread.
Others are watching and anticipate,
The big hand comes down to orchestrate.
Play out this parade,
as such is our charade,
make a move and act with haste.As any Chessman knows,
from mere Pawns to the noble Knights.
We can’t stay too long; never in the same place.
When the voice from above shouts out loud;
it’s over and out right then,
back to the box once again,
when you hear the final shout, “Checkmate”.
~ an EWK Poe’em ©2016 EWK
“the big hand comes down to orchestrate.” Very clever poem. Great stuff. Glad I stumbled upon it. Look forward to reading more.
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Thank you.
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Please feel welcome to read many of my previous posts. And, thank you for choosing to follow me now!
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