A set table

Never done
That Queen of Venice stands
Ever busy
Hat lean of venerated thoughts
She turns to apply mascara

A night that is spent looking at stars
Can never be called joyful
In sight of yearning taking to mars
There fewer are called hopeful
He solemnly prepares for war

A set table
The pieces are moving
The candles bishops
And pawns the entrée I see
Yet both sides missing a piece in this masquerade

In the end I see
The king is captured
Like Mahler in Minor C
The music stopped
For the queen moved to another board.

Author's Note

Hey again everyone. It's been a while, but I'm hoping to start posting poetry once more here. I hope you enjoy this piece.

Reviews

[poetgurl (Plainly Meg)]

I found this piece intriguing and delightful at the same time. Very nicely written

[Threads]

Thank you! It was the result of a short bit of travel on the train. If you have any critiques I'm open to hearing them. I'm always looking to improve where I can.

[poetgurl (Plainly Meg)]

i'm not that good at critiquing