Magic Mirror

Listen to the incantation spoken.

I don’t know when
She’ll allow herself
To taste

But my table,
I’ve set with
Delectable treats

A hand extended,
An extension of the self

And the key,
A cipher of secrets
Awaits

Stumbling, visions,
Enchantment, a sleep spell

I fell into the lap
Of an interesting creature

Protocols of the forest
Forbade my desire

To invite the sprite
To join me for tea

Instead, I had to leave
A little trail of breadcrumbs

At the edge of the woods
And wait there, and hope

Hope she might follow me
Home to my village

Where I’d ask her questions
About the ways of her kind

And answer of my customs,
All her questions for me

But I don’t know the manners
Or the habits of the fae

Whether or not sprites
Enjoy breadcrumbs or tea

But along with the crumbs,
I inscribed a little spell

A string of runes on parchment
That summon a beast

When she touches those glyphs
With her soft, slender finger

She can scry the dark portal
Of hidden things that might be

Author: Kevin Trent Boswell

Kevin Trent Boswell is a thing that once blinked briefly in and out of existence. It made noises and gestures while it lasted. The exact nature of its demise is unclear. Some sources say it collapsed beneath the weight of entropy and time. Other tertiary evidence suggests the possibility that it was destroyed by a predator, an accident, or perhaps even by itself. The truth of the matter is unknown. Luckily, no one cares. View all posts by Kevin Trent Boswell