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Personal Note:

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Poem


The star-shaped board, a galaxy of holes,
Where marbles gleamed like miniature suns or souls.
Six vibrant hues, a spectrum waiting there,
For nimble fingers poised with patient care.

Remember the setup, each marble in its place,
A homeward journey at a steady pace.
Across the points, a hop, a skip, a jump,
Avoiding clusters lest our progress slump.

The satisfying click as glass on plastic met,
A tiny victory we wouldn't soon forget.
The chain reactions, O, the clever sweeping flight,
That left opponents stranded in the fading light
Of their own starting triangle far behind,
While we advanced with strategic thought and mind.

The frustration mounting when a blockage stood,
A wall of color misunderstood.
The careful planning thwarted by a foe,
Who jumped right past and left our spirits low.

Remember the sighs, the laughter light and free,
The friendly rivalry for all the world to see?
The leaning close to plot a cunning move,
A whispered strategy we hoped would soon improve
Our marble's progress towards that distant peak,
The final hole, the victory we seek.

The clatter of marbles gathered in the end,
A prism completed, our triumphant trend.
A simple game yet hours it would fill
With quiet focus and a gentle thrill.

The cardboard worn, the star a little bent,
Still holds the echoes of those moments spent.
A nostalgic warmth for childhood's simple grace,
The Chinese Checkers in that familiar space.

©bfa041425

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