 Magic Circle, by John William Waterhouse (England) 1886 Magic Circle It’s time for me to cast the spell. My fire is lit, the coals aglow; the potion steams and smoulders well -- I wait to see what I must know. My fire is lit, the coals aglow; I draw my circle with my wand. I wait to see what I must know, to gaze upon the world beyond. I draw my circle with my wand; I offer sprays of peonies to gaze upon the world beyond. I need to set my heart at ease. I offer sprays of peonies; these ravens cannot hurt me here. I need to set my heart at ease -- this dreadful toad does not come near. These ravens cannot hurt me here; the scent deters all scorn and spite. This dreadful toad does not come near -- the air shall fill with love tonight. The scent deters all scorn and spite; the potion steams and smoulders well. The air shall fill with love tonight… it’s time for me to cast the spell. F.F. Teague F.F. Teague (Fliss) is a copyeditor/copywriter by day and a poet/composer come nightfall. She lives in Pittville, a suburb of Cheltenham (UK). Her poetry features in a number of journals and her second collection, Interruptus: A Poetry Year, will be published in 2025. Her other interests include art, film, and photography.
1 Comment
Peter Devonald
1/29/2025 03:38:29 pm
Fantastic work, really love this. Has an Edgar Allan Poe sense to it, a sophistication to the rhymes and beautifully written, excellent. Really impressive poetry. Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
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