STRATEGY 

Peter Woodgate 

Into the battlefield eight by eight

Placed according to kind

With pawns upfront and kings behind

The battalions of the mind.

 

Winning is the only aim

And sacrifice is needed

Each piece upon the board bar one

Can have their use conceded.

 

The mighty queen and humble pawn

All must play their part

As each move is carefully planned

Coolness is the art.

 

Ego is the driving force

And veins are pumped with blood

Each skirmish fought hand to hand

To open up the board.

 

You lose a bishop, take a knight

Then sacrifice a pawn

The game swings first this way then that

Until the early dawn.

 

Your collar now feels very tight

Beads of sweat run down

Your opponent looks you in the eye

You return it with a frown.

 

The clock ticks on each move recorded

With a movement of the arm

The eyes looked glazed, the mouth is dry

The brain sends forth alarm.

 

Time left is fast receding

You already know your fate

A hand is placed  upon the piece

And you hear the words “checkmate”

 

Copyright Peter Woodgate