wizards

Wizardly

In distant lands where wizards wandered,
a time of yore when magicians pondered;
a challenge was made by an illusionist of note,
shrouded in mystery and a long black coat,
~
The gifted were called to show their great skills.
But the contest prohibited charlatans and shills.
Prizes guaranteed and the winners get gold.
So come, one and all, both young and old.
~
Signs were posted all over the town.
Flyers distributed by a gal in a gown.
Entertainments galore and food aplenty,
there’s games for all, bet one win twenty.
~
The festival starts in two weeks’ time,
dancers await with jesters and a mime.
The town square was chosen for its large size.
The old mayor agreed but thought it unwise.
~
The time finally came and the lines grew long.
Musicians ushered with an enchanting song.
The adults drank heartily and the kids guzzled juice.
The sun was setting and the town felt loose.
~
Coins flowed freely and senses had a feast.
Scraps could be tossed to the fiercest of beasts.
Wrestlers tangled and the jugglers caught on.
Clowns peddled emotion and one had a swan.
~
The main event planned for nine on the dot.
Buy tickets early and reserve your spot.
Amazement ensured by the magical guests.
Great talents conjured for their enriching test.
~
The show started with a man in a hat.
His rabbit disappeared but that was that.
Next, a woman in a bright red cape,
she aimed darts at her husband holding a grape.
~
She only missed once but that was too much.
But now we know why he walks with a crutch.
The rest of the show was much the same.
Amateurs all whose tricks were all lame.
~
Last was the illusionist and the crowd all cheered.
But in a big puff of smoke they soon disappeared.
The crowd all clapped but thought there was more.
Was the show over? No one was sure.
~
The crowd grew feisty and refunds requested.
The contestants were angry and they too protested.
The search was on for this illusionist of note.
A rumor was spread they left with a tote.
~
Prizes not awarded and vendors unpaid,
workers left hanging and the square’s rent unmade.
The mayor too was missing, a plot was surmised.
Was the mayor the illusionist just well disguised?
~
Did he steal the money and then disappear?
Or was he a partner and a rank profiteer?
A week soon passed and all hopes grew dim.
Winter was coming and the feeling was grim.
~
Then on a Tuesday just after sunrise,
the town folk arose to a big surprise.
The mayor returned with the money filled tote,
with him a cat with a long black coat.
~
The town folk wondered what had he done.
Questions were asked but answers were none.
The mayor was unfazed by their nosy demands.
For those truly wizardly never show their hands.

~*~
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Wizard Mode

I’m off to see a wizard, the wonderful wizard of odd

It flutters all about waving a feathered rod

But first I’ll take a nice long nap

Wake up then find my thinking cap

 ~

I’ll sharpen my quills like a warrior’s blade

And joust with parchment where magic’s made

Then dig into my helmet, always full of goo

Hopefully to yank out something that is new

 ~

I never know what or if it may be

Until the ink dries then I’ll get to see

What magic has this wizard left?

Something clever or something deft

 ~

Sometimes the words all disappear

Then time has passed, wasted here

Though journeys un-ventured, high or low

Are the adventures you will never know

 ~

So follow your wizard and you will find

Those magical wizards are mostly kind

Though often absent, never fret, I’ve a hunch

Some wizards are just out to lunch

 ~*~

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The Wizard of Windham

The wizard of Windham lived on the hill.
His walls of stone are standing there still.
The roof’s now long gone as is the tower,
once a symbol of the wizard’s great power.
~
His age was unknown, a millennium guessed.
The first settlers awed, but some less impressed.
The natives too could never agree.
Were his acts wizardly or wise fakery?
~
The questions delayed with new problems brewing.
The settlers flourished and the natives were stewing.
Agreements were made and boarders were mapped.
The hill was the place where both overlapped.
~
The wizard then asked to choice just one side.
The wizard then answered with a grin, big and wide.
“I’ll choose no side as the hill is my own,
each stone hand-placed, a thousand years grown.”
~
“My family, you see, arose from these grounds.
We speak and we hear all natures’ sounds.
The grasses here grow tall to tickle my feet.
And the berries are delicious because I like sweet.”
~
The chiefs convinced as he spoke of their legends.
Each then agreed it’s best to be friends.
The settlers too thought that was best.
A treaty was signed and they all now could rest.
~
Years then passed with the wizard unseen.
But his tower stood proud on its hill of green.
The settlers now settled and their families grew.
The natives moved on leaving now but a few.
~
A new generation, now triple in size,
gazed at the hill with big greedy eyes.
The treaty forgotten as was the wizard.
They planned to start building after the blizzard.
~
The long winter passed, the spring brought more rain.
That summer was scorching, then autumn again.
Builders were hired that following spring.
A fortress they’d build with a big banquet wing.
~
Wagons were loaded and the horses well fed.
The mayor woke early from his big comfy bed.
A speech he’d planned for that very day.
But storm clouds moved in and the sky turned gray.
~
His speech was canceled but the builders went ahead.
The mayor scurried home then back to bed.
Rain soon started then followed by hail.
The wagons got stuck on the wet slippery trail.
~
The work then delayed until the skies cleared.
Months soon passed, much longer than feared.
Rumors spread of the wizards return;
if magic he has come summer they’ll burn.
~
By early June the sky hinted of blue,
the trail now firm and the grass green and new.
The builders then called to make a new start.
The horses led forward pulling wagon and cart.
~
The trail narrowed at the base of the hill.
Then the horses all stopped and just stood still.
The builders got scared and ran back to town.
The mayor got fired for being a clown.
~
Some say the wizard had gotten his way.
That legend lives on to this very day.
Does the wizard still live, well nobody knows.
But his hill’s still green as the little town grows.

~*~
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