Magyck

Stepping stones above the water Form path into this sacred place At centre of encircling trees Stood by waterfall's base. Chant the proper words with care And that pathway will appear And the ending of the journey Draws significantly near. Chant the words incorrectly, A mistake, one word wrong The stones remain invisible So way of entry is gone Do not try to forge the water For it has a cold that seeps Before the guarding stream Carries bodies to its deeps. But, say those words correctly With a lilting style and grace And those stones seem to flow To take a seeker to the place. The Magyck swirls around, The silence encloses tight The shimmering in the air Brings an enhanced sight. This throne room of Faerieland, Though the Faeries are long gone, Hangs there between dimensions The mystery living on and on. Speak the wishes clearly But kept inside the head And, maybe just maybe, Those wishes may be read, Maybe even granted Though in truth very very few For the place is old and wise, And ambition not new. With the placing of the words A cold wind descends Signalling to the supplicant Time of audience ends. Across the stepping stones Floating in the still air Until as foot touches ground They are no longer there. This is a place of Magyck Where are planted those seeds Which may, in time, with luck Turn such thoughts into deeds.