A male monarch, something we don’t need any more of in this day and age. That is unless you’re playing checkers, chess or cards

I’m made to aid in an outdoor trade My suit can be arrayed on your table and played Don’t make my dismayed for I prayed you would see that under my charade, I am a

I may be foretold by prophets grim, or whispered when the future looks dim. I follow ruin, loss, and gloom, what dreaded fate fills every room?

A Roman parade A sarcastic canine A motorcycle A stunning win.

Two hands meet but do not fight, We grip together, firm and tight. We seal a deal without a pen, Or greet a friend we meet again. A sign of peace from days of old, A silent story clearly told.