Contact Us      
         Join today or login
You are using an outdated version. Writing will not be shown properly in many cases. Click here to use the current version.

Status

New Here?
Sign Up
Fast! Three Questions.

Already a member?
Login


Contests

This Sentence Starts The Story
Deadline: In 2 Days

Faith Poetry Contest
Deadline: Jul 22nd

3 Line Poetry Contest
Deadline: Jul 24th

Horror Writing Contest
Deadline: Jul 27th

Tanka Poetry Contest
Deadline: Jul 31st


Rank

Poet: None
Author: None
Novel: None
Reviewer:None
Votes: None





    Story poem Contest Winner 
 Category:  General Poetry
  Posted: January 26, 2019      Views: 157

Print It
Save to Bookcase
View Reviews
Rate This
Make Reader Pick
Promote This


 ABOUT
TRIMPLE 

Married to an artist and have two grown children (a pigeon pair) and two beautiful grandchildren, Isabella and Abigail.

I Love making things from old junk.

Gabriel Garcia Marquez is my favorite writer. I just love the way he manages - more...

Portfolio | Become A Fan
Exceptional
This work has reached the exceptional level
story poem
"Checkmate." by trimple
I was easy to find, and you were eager to please;
with such stealthy persuasion, the moment was seized...
but, with some trepidation and no guarantees,
 we were blinded this night with unscrupulous ease.

The night that we chose was as pale as the moon
as we reasoned and battled our fate and fortune.
Mere pawns in a game that had ended too soon,
but our courage was such that our egos ballooned.

As we conquered our fears and continued our way,
between shadows we rode on this perilous day.
Our horses well traveled, our minds led astray,
we were bound to receive a resounding, touche!

By my side, you were there with your clever techniques.
The dynamic between us: devout and unique.
But old grudges had harbored and mounted so steep,
that destiny waned and slipped out of our reach.

For the clergy dishonored my beautiful Queen;
to the tower there driven, so swift and obscene.
We'd exchanged our last wishes: a gamble, foreseen;
thus, her head would be severed, where crowds would convene.

Now I stand here alone, as my savior is slain,
on this old checkered board with my gambit to b
lame.
My kingdom now scattered; unable to reign,
though, tomorrow, I'll move with my Queen once again...

Now the chess master has us, back standing in line;
thirty-two figurines of exquisite design...
With a drink in his hand, he replays in his mind,
and we wink to each other, say, 'Till the next time...'


Writing Prompt
Write a rhymed story poem in 'no less' than four quatrains. Subject optional.
Story poem
Contest Winner

Recognized
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Share or Bookmark
Print It Save to Bookcase View Reviews Make Reader Pick Promote This
© Copyright 2016. trimple All rights reserved.
trimple has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

You need to login or register to write reviews.

It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.

Interested in posting your own writing online? Click here to find out more.



Write a story or poem and submit your work to receive reviews on your writing. Publish short stories on our book writing site and enter the monthly contests. Guaranteed reviews for everything you write and you will be ranked. Information.


  Contact Us

© 2016 FanStory.com, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Statement