There they sat,
Pens drawn like swords,
Prodding the paper between them.
Their swords sometimes crossed
As they saw a word,
Or a letter on the other side
Of the crossword they were doing.
Every day they are there,
Pens drawn,
Ready for battle,
The battle of the crossword.
Filling in the words
Until they had conquered the enemy,
The enemy of the crossword,
While enjoying their coffee and toast.