CheckmateA Poem by M.C. ArnoldYour eyes drill the Rook as your hand hovers, Looking for the perfect move. The Queen remains unaltered Yet poised to strike when I least expect her. I have to keep an eye on that one. Our eyes never meet during this tournament. Perhaps it's best that way. I fear my plan may surrender itself Should you take a moment to inspect my gaze. The perfect silence is broken With the signature clearing of your throat, A sure sign that the gears of your mind are grinding -- Synonymous with my doom. Your right hand rises to support your cheek As you c**k your head and survey the board yet again. Yes, my time has truly come. I pause for a moment as I realize this game is us. If I dared explain, you would most certainly agree with me. The calm before the storm; Utter ignorance on my part until it was too late; My plans crumbling under your moves, None of which are wasted or used lightly. This is who you are. I know now you were just what I needed. I'm stronger because of it. I would say thank you, but the tournament continues. You finally move the Bishop within range of my King. I feel my face flush slightly As I accept the gravity of the move. It's over and I didn't even see it coming. Yes, this game truly means more than just a lonely Bishop Toppling my King.
© 2011 M.C. ArnoldAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on December 12, 2011 Last Updated on December 12, 2011 AuthorM.C. ArnoldVAAboutI am a full time college student. Need I say more? OK, perhaps I should. I have been writing steadily for about four years now. I write mainly fiction, though I have experimented in quite a fe.. more..Writing
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