I’m working on some new poems, but I ran across this one from a few years ago and thought it was funny and quirky so I thought I’d share. I’ll have new poetry up soon, but this should hold you over ’til then. Enjoy!
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The covers creaked like coffins opening.
The dust, it rolled unfloating off the page.
The ink took form, its villain grimacing.
To face its foe, he too was filled with rage.
A saber made of light to face the steel.
His hook, the captain swung at Vader’s cape.
When hit, although, the Jedi did not feel
the blade that gave his wicked arm a scrape.
The Force, alas, was Hook’s sad expiry,
as Anakin the former stood with pride.
Fictitious, though, he knew Hook’s death would be.
His captain foe from dead would quickly rise.
A part of ways, the villains said good night;
tomorrow, known, would bring another fight.
