When A Pawn Warns Their Bishop

Their ways of understanding fill the steel basin,

As they want, not a drop more or less.

Let the stillness reflect their feelings,

Cool as floor tile, sharp as business kills.

 

Everyone heard about those stock market uncertainties.

The king hangs off the rung above,

Tersely slips a heating plate underneath,

Set to boil. Bubble over, let the liquid

Take its place, rain running fire starter.

 

Disguised in crystal clear, the liquid’s granulated sugar water,

Fore the king charms the bees, ants, and all naive.

The bishop passes down his orders, sacrifices his pawns,

And is wooed he will not be next.

Somebody please, bring a towel, this has gotten to be quite a mess.

 

When a pawn warns their bishop,

He can only watch the signal flare with unmoving eyes.

Cold and silent, their ways of understanding fill the basin,

But there’s not enough for anyone else, but the king and the game.

 

 

Reply Button

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s