King Of The Hill Poem by Bryan Taplits

Like a banner,
each held his pride high.
And the summer's sun,
With its vaulting view,
Was not nearly as high in the sky.

Competing for that prize of
'First'
Each countered the other as they fought,
But they were cousins in this diner
-Earth's Holy Realm-
And pitched and flung,
With flurried words,
that sought and sought,
then taught.

Neither one would be first
To surrender
For to retreat
was an unbearable loss,
So the ripostes queued
As their tongues, like spears, flew
Till the restaurant bill was more than the cost!