Reflections
Looking back upon these threads
for 3 years, what I've done,
Can understand no tears be shed,
and some to want to shun -
this knightly pawn, who night & day
and day & night to some,
He's seeked the eyes and ears of all
Acknowledged overdone.
But thankful for the freedom to
(as Press is free o'er here),
express one's self in words, not few -
to my "friends" over there.
At times the feelings from within
Are sheepish, that's no lie;
But grateful for my Irish kin,
His name, well Purr the Guy.
And grateful for Antique the Mick,
As well as the Baron,
(Much different from the "Rick of Ricks")
Old name from which he'd run.
And then there's Knight, the Alan First,
Well, name misspelled, I know...
Tis really Prof, The Alan Fersht,
A Jaques, not Joke, does glow.
But where is Alan Dewey now?
That name historic skills -
I miss him 'spite the sharp tongue how
it stung with wit and quill.
For hindsight does show good and bad
In each of us, you see...
Like CCI, 'Casa - a tad,
One big, wide family.
Reflects the world, both in and out
of Chess, if one did think,
Of countries, too, that in a bout,
at times, in battles, sink.
But times, they change - and yet they don't
For Oceans bring anew
As Springtime in Vermont brings warmth
with sheep and lambs and ewe.
So let us join with 'membrance sake
the old and new right here
To celebrate, not instigate
'spite harsh words that hurt dear.
What goes around does come around,
Have we learned, some at last?
Sweet Songs of Spring bring out a sound
Sweet songs, Rascasso, past.
So many names could fill this space
If one could ponder all,
This poem would and could replace
all time til' Seasons Fall.
So let me end this verse right here
Before I go insane,
Or maybe some of you'd resign
From this chess-like game.
John, (almost) Springtime in Vermont
