The Chess Mess Painting Poem by Barbara Field

The boy observes the chess game.
Marble looks like a blue pool.
Brown benches, the one with cricket-like hands.
The lamp posts like the gray area of vision....I see.
The squares are red and beige.
The fact is that the king is thinking of what;
Answer: squares.
He finds the bishop with his truth, square.
He finds the queen who can't dance, frozen in paint, square.
He even is critical of the angel, balancing act intact.
The painting is not animated to be a motion picture.
The first knight is like a film, viewing the board from the cat bird's seat, moved to be
Noble.
The goodness to stay out of the game's arena.
The intelligence to slant paint on a flatland in Switzerland.
Like a pawn manipulated to write, to paint, to dream....