Upon a fine and dew be-kisséd morn
I went unto my master and, forlorn,
I bade him teach me how to play the game
Of chess.
He, answering, said to me: “When you are old
Enough to learn, I’ll give that weighty gold.”
These words he spoke, methought, to bring me shame,
Not truth.
And then when once the sun at height did blaze,
And I had married and liv’d many days,
I did once more approach my master there
For chess.
At once: “Have you yet learned the game?” he cried,
“How should I,” I replied, “without a guide?”
He shook his head: “Too young to have such cares,
Forsooth.”
And then upon a grim and silent eve,
My master died; and I too died—they grieve
Who yet remain. Let them! For he and I
Play chess.
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Author:
Samuel Maximilian (
Offline) - Published: July 13th, 2025 14:18
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
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Comments2
Brilliant! Well done in rhyme, message and metaphor each woven into this poem. Loved it a fave
Thank you for commenting. I'm glad you liked it (thank you for the fave!).
A beautiful write, wonderful meaning and message, enjoyed the read
I'm glad you liked it. Thanks for taking the time to comment.
You are very welcome
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