He persists with force,
Determined to succeed.
I resist of course,
Not willing to concede.
Not here, not now,
This isn’t the place
Nor the time to bow,
But he holds the ace.

He keeps pushing down
But I can’t let him win.
His powers are renowned.
Is it shameful to give in?
That doubt was enough -
the thin end of the wedge.
He so loves this rough
And tumble at the edge.

The inevitable comes.
My mettle is bent.
His strength overcomes.
My force is all spent.
As I close my eyes
There’s a silent roar
As sleep lifts the prize
And I start to snore.

© Adrian Tribe