Annabelle does sit at play,
In her usual, cheery way.
She does not worry, nor does she fret,
She hasn’t reason to be scared yet.
Then, the seizure overtakes her,
Perhaps caused by a noise, an innocent whir.
“Mom, it’s happening”, she cries,
With her hands she covers her eyes.
“Annabelle, Annabelle, ‘twill all be fine,”
We calmly say, with deep fear inside.
We knew that this was epilepsy,
I wished it wasn’t her, but me.
But she endured the pain and strife,
Now a part of her daily life.
She was strong of heart and head,
Even in her hospital bed.
After a minute, the nausea stops,
And our level of fear gradually drops.
Annabelle returns to her lovely self,
But we know that more seizures will take this sweet, young elf.

I took a seat at the chess-board
I felt tense as a tightly stretched cord
My opponent turned around to face me
And a look of great fear did grace me

Feebly, I moved up a pawn
I felt vulnerable as a fawn
He smirked, and he brought out a knight
So consumed was I with fright

That I did do something so rash
I brought out my queen, and then CRASH!
My queen was captured by the horse
My face was consumed by remorse

I thought of offering a draw
I thought of my chess-playing flaw
Then I remembered one thing
That I was still badly losing

He brought his queen to the seventh rank
He knew that he had to be frank
With a knight of his standing idly by,
My king moved up, up into the sky

He clearly stated in a voice great,
I have won, you lose, Checkmate!
My eyes welled up with salty tears
My cries against the victor’s cheers

From this day forth I dread to play
Chess does make my mood so gray
I forever ponder the mess
That I made of that game of chess.