Chess Poem by Jeff Rushton

64 Squares, positions or points, these are the grounds, the state or the place.
8 meek and mild attributes and traits, pointing in one direction unless faced with restraint. Moving onward, striving for home where they have the chance to reign the thrown. Two towering structures of mystic and archival rank, moving vertically and
horizontally is their only complaint. They are firm and steadfast as long as they maintain the direct and correct path they have claimed. They are honor and pride, dignity, and our soul-to-strive, they are only divided when looking far a side. Not seeing the angels, the obstacles, the trials, this is their weakness, their fall oh so vial. The valiant, the brave, the chariot of fire all moving forth cunningly and avoiding the immediate trial. They are quick and agile, able to move in a pattern of suspicion and subtle. The only fault is the loss of oneself in the pattern of survival, over the ambition for success. The religion, intuition, the spirit, our soul, this is the wisdom and knowledge that makes his control. He stands with his robes and his calling set before, he will cover all angles of ground and no more. His movement is confined to the space he can find. Conversion is the power, the direction and the rank, he must covert himself before taking others home to his bank. He only falls when he watches halfhearted, for those that can move around the weak spirited. The freedom to move at her will and refrain, gives this lady dominance and reign. She is wise and intelligent to sit back and watch her confidants, only rising to solve a problem or interference. Her partner and co-author to the game that we play, stands tall beside her watching, with seldom a word to say. He is all choices rolled into one. He moves very little because of the fun, but only those that don't watch the spectrum are done.