The Ballad of Arthur Workroom

(Inspired by a nameplate sign hanging outside an office in my place of work.)

Long ago there was a man,
Known now only in tales,
He conquered beasts and Layout files,
And even helped with Sales.


He came to work here one fine day,
In chambray shirt and tie,
A stack of proofs before him stood,
Near unto a mile high.


He did not blink nor flinch nor fail,
Confronted with this work,
He got right down to bus'ness,
Correcting with a smirk


He worked his way right down the pile,
Because he took a vow,
In Punctuation or grammar,
No error to allow.


He checked all offers, prices, codes,
And Postal he checked twice,
To the relief of the artist,
His notes were all concise.


At last he stood, he stretch'd his arms
And rubb'd his aching back,
For he had finally come to,
The bottom of the stack


"That was a job of work, no doubt,"
He was then heard to say,
"But now my work is all done here."
And then he walked away


A man, a legend in his time,
None know from whence he came,
A hero, some say, from beyond,
Art Workroom was his name.