I know this post is late, too. Whatever.
The next poem on my archives list is not an official form, but it follows an ABB pattern. It’s Fridge-Poem-Era predecessor is called Herbert The Homeless Hoagie. It’s a pretty touching piece. I mean, I’ve never had a sandwich make me cry, unless it was so delicious I couldn’t help myself.
It changed my life!
Anyways, I’ve had an old idea of Joie Brown and mine on the brain lately (we usually cook-up between one and fifty crazy ideas a week), and I decided to use the story and tagline as inspiration for my ABB poem:
We are Knights to Five
and we work to stay alive!
When Joie and I were both miserable at office/desk jobs, we would make nerdy comparisons between lame office work and something more heroic/fun. For instance, every Tuesday I had to slay the Timesheet Dragon. This evolved into a funny idea about a mage and a warrior being thrown out of context of their world and into a corporate office. They would not fit-in with the other office peasants who didn’t wear pink armor to work or wield purple magic, and the two friends simply deal with this office as best they can while finding their way back to the creative, successful homeland they long for. It’s pretty funny and would make a great comic or web show. Maybe someday…For now, here is the poem:
Knights to Five!
Joie sketched the beginnings of our idea. Here's a warrior and half a mage!
Once upon a time there were two dear friends,
one a powerful mage,
the other a warrior of common age.
Their training was complete,
the mage’s magic mystifying,
and the warrior’s strength undying.
The mage also mastered the paint brush,
and the warrior? The quill,
for these were maidens of many skills,
And they were on a journey,
to join the Ship of Dreams’ community,
and sail the Sea of Opportunity.
Their destination was on the horizon.
Hand-in-hand, the best friends traveled,
but suddenly, their plans unraveled.
The skies went black, and thunder roared.
The air began to smoke and crackle,
within that haze there came a cackle.
Out from the smolder came a witch,
“I’m Madam Reality,” she seethed,
“and you’ll never make it to that sea!”
The mage and warrior were both ensnared,
in terrifying tendrils of evil magic.
The friends both knew this would be tragic.
Madame Reality roared wildly,
and with a flick of a wrist and an incantation,
she sent the best friends to damnation.
They awoke in a dreadful place,
with recycled air and fluorescent rays,
and an endless, cubical maze.
The friends were imprisoned separately,
the warrior in the front desk stocks,
and the mage inside an office box!
This corporate land was harsh and odd.
Instead of fighting dragons and orcs,
they struggled with drama and busywork.
The environment was toxic and the work was torture,
for the warrior and mage’s creativity,
was in a dark cell of captivity.
“Someday we’ll make it to the sea!”
Our heroes made that solemn vow,
“We’ll defeat this place and get home somehow!”
“Until then, each day will be a battle,
We are Knights to Five,
and we work to stay alive!”
Really, guys. We dropped the ball on this one. Thankfully, good ‘ole NPR reminded me a few days ago. At least I won’t ever forget from now on. So, Happy Poetry Month, Everybody!
First off, 
PrenticeOsborne.Com 