(Based on the Song Night Moves)
Scratched My Head, Tried to Save a Key Pawn;
Half of My Pieces Already Gone.
She Was a Blond Haired Abbess with Nut Brown Eyes
Who Moved Quite Well, to My Surprise.
Much to My Surprise.
Out in the Courtyard in the Summer Air,
in the Council Chamber behind the Stair;
Weaving Stratagems We Could Use,
Lost Deep in the Moves.
Working out Our Knight Moves,
Overhearing Monastery News;
Practicing Our Knight Moves, Taking Our Time,
in That First, Very First Summertime.
We Were No Masters, Her nor I;
We Both Had Moves We Liked to Try.
Her First Move, My First Move,
Neither One Cared.
We Were Neither One Scared.
Deep inside in the Heat of Day,
Anywhere We Were Out Of the Way,
We Played the Game Because We Were Bored;
but Her Bishop Had a Sword.
Working on Our Knight Moves
for Neither One Would Play the Game to Lose;
Working out Our Knight Moves
When We Had the Time.
And How We Wondered
When the Bishop Moved like Lightning
and Split the Board Asunder…
… Woke Last Night to a Distant Thunder;
Her Rook Slammed down, I Shouldn’t Wonder.
I Thought of a Song from 762.
Consider How the Knight Moves
When You’re down a Pawn and Desperate to Win.
It’s Clever How This Knight Moved
with the Bishop Closing in.