Chess Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Bishops, Kings and Queens unite
on square board's night and day, black, white,
surround themselves with castles, find
four pairs of pawns to sit behind,
then each side, reinforced by knight,
prepares for battle, scorns respite.

Eight squares by eight make up the field,
the pawns advance until they yield,
as one by one they victims fall
to an advance King can't forestall.
Attacks repelled, fine feint concealed,
till checkmate final fate has sealed.