A magician some may call me…
A trickster, perhaps a fool?
A rabbit out of a hat you say?
I’ll do better…
See…
A mule!
I have studied under the greatest…
I have traveled distant lands!
I just made your watch disappear
With the sleight movement of my hands.
If you blink…
You will miss it.
There’s more…
::crowd chatter::
“Woah!!!”
“Where’d he go?”
“Mmm…I think he might have slipped out the back door.”
……
Hey!….My watch!!!
A chill and gloomy evening
As I tend to make my rounds
Shifting through each tombstone
That lies on sacred grounds
I was buried under cornerstone
A measure that must be took
To guard against the vagrant man
And most underhanded crook.
The Church Grim
According to folklore a church grim was a guardian spirit of an animal that would look over church grounds. Usually it would be buried underneath a church’s cornerstone.
It seems to have gone away from me
It seems it has made its escape
I nodded off oh so suddenly
And then was jolted to awake.
My head…
oh so weary.
My eyes…
so heavy too.
I think my soul just left me
While under a forest canopy’s view.
A quiet and gentle nodding…
A momentary sleep.
I opened up my mouth to yawn
And found I couldn’t speak.
Do not stare too longingly -
Try not to give it too much thought.
But I swear I hear her whispers
Saying everything that no man ought.
She bellows low I tell you
And ebbs in a blink
You can easily be lost to her
No matter what you may think
And Yes we've traveled many shores
And we tend to fare well
But we have lost so many men
To the roaring of her swells.
I am tasked with many
Things you see
My arms - they play a part.
I have one that sorts the laundry
And another that creates the art.
Another that even holds a book
Though to read it…
When will I start?
And another that takes a photograph
And captures a heart to heart.
I have one that holds a tissue
For every time I have to sneeze
And another that just waves around
And does whatever it may please.
You would think with all I can do
I’d be on top of every task
But I tend to shake and quiver
Whenever there’s an ask.
I let out a yelp and whimper
And then make my escape known
Leaving a trail of ink behind
The darkest black in tone.
A fisherman of many years
I know the sea quite well
But on this particular day
I must say
the waves they overwhelm.
The winds surround so gently
As I sing a hearty tune -
The nets are set overboard
Our boats guided by the moon.
A sway and unruly rocking
A crisp and gusty eve….
“Hoist the nets you merry men!”
And we let out a thunderous
“Heave!!”
But our catch was quite peculiar
Our catch was a maiden fair
She hummed a song that captivated
And let down her jet-black hair.
Our ears perked and listened
We all froze in our place
And one by one she called us
To our underwater graves.