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Chess. A Checkmate of Love.

(A regal female voice whispers to eager faces)

“Try love”

Said the Queen to her Pawns

As she looked out over
Her black and white lawns

“Before the Sun fades
Or goes away

Open up your souls and see where it goes

Just try love once
Even if it fails”

Said the Queen to her Pawns

As she looked out over
Her black and white lawns

"For,
From as far as Babylon of Old

To Istanbul
Standing still in the Cold

All my old pieces have tried love once

Before they were took
By Death's cruel hook

To stand away forever
From my black and white lawns

Lost in the shadows
As the stars fade, when the moon comes out

Praying in straight, black and white lines

For a second chance
At a new dawn

So try love once,
My beloved Pawns

Even if it fails

Take a chance
Before you're removed

From my black and white lawns

Just try love once,
My beloved Pawns

(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Caught at
a crossroad
duality
reigns
Closing
you off
or opening
lanes
That choice
staring back
in the distance
provides
A new
destination
or a place
— you can hide

(Dreamsleep: March, 2025)
To be a piece of paper
Thrown at sea,
Crumpled—furiously
Unable to be.

To row against
Undaunted waves,
Tall as mountains,
Jagged as nails.

Oh, to wish
To greet the sand,
Just to meet
Some reader's hands.
The tulips teach me that beauty
can return even after the frost,
The sunflowers remind me to turn
towards the light,
And the forget-me-nots whisper softly
that some things are meant to be remembered,
not lost.
Life, like a river
Moves slowly forward
Some days it brings smiles
Some days will evoke sighs
Some days you get stuck
And you keep wondering ‘why’ ?
Leave life in Fate’s hands
It knows what’s best for you
It will never ever do
Things that you would rue
So move ahead with grace
And a smile on your face
A sway of the hips
And a song on your lips
Sometimes I write poetry
most times it writes me.

Showing me things 
I need to see.

Things I need to acknowledge
to be a better man.

Not to change the world, 
but to change what I can.

Most often times
it's a change in me,
A reflection of a man 
I don't want to see.

Sometimes I write poetry,
most times it writes me.

And the more that I write
the more I'll like what I see.

And maybe someday
if I write well enough,

The man in the mirror
will smile back at me.
I'm running
Trying to catch peace that never arrives
Hiding between shadows
So I don't have to remember

I'm running
Erasing footsteps in exhaustion
Convincing myself
That distance will make the pain smaller
But the farther I go
The more real it becomes

No one is chasing
Except the truth keeps waiting
That it wasn't you I left behind
It was me.

Then I stop
Let the heart hurt
Let the pain speak
I won't run anymore
 Mar 30 Cheryl Ann Warner
AE
I think, those wrinkles on your face
The ones you want to erase
The ones that appear with every laugh
Are waiting to be shaped
Into musical notes
That form the melody
Of the sound of healing
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