Mislaid Magic

The moon just as paper when a torch sines behind,
A puppet display with characters from the mind.
The stars how they wink, it's that alien again!
Yet it moves and you spot that it's just an aeroplane.

At the end of the rainbow, a pot full of gold!
With leprechaun guarding, or so it's been told.
While a stick in a forest is magic to own,
And a rock from the seaside, a dinosaur bone.

A monster which lurks to make dinner of me,
Just shadows of clouds that float in the sea.
Then fairies who leave a gift from their dance,
Just a circle of mushrooms that grew there by chance.

Vampires will get you and soon they will bite,
Or is it those bugs that nip you at night?
And then there's the dust that Santa Claus drops,
A pot full of glitter you see in the shops.

The world can be strange, and seem upside down
As an adult grown up, with no mystery around.
Imagination dwindles, the magic may fade,
But children will teach it's just magic mislaid.

Photo by Allen Taylor on Unsplash