The Lonely Wizard

He sat atop a giant stone,

sighing as he looked down

at the world below, wondering

if he could ever find someone

to call his own.  He was lonely,

he was, for no one would dare

to venture by his giant rock.

Afraid, they were, of his terrible

power; afraid he would turn them

all into toads.  Why would they say

such terrible things? Didn’t they

like his marvelous tricks?

Hovering rocks,

sparkling trees,

dancing flowers,

flying pigs – oh! How he loved

those flying swine!  But no one

in the village appreciated his art.

“Go away and don’t come back!”

They screamed and shouted,

throwing rocks and calling names.

They cast him out to live on

his rock, all alone, with no

one to call his own.

But then a thought! “I can make

my own ‘my own’!”   Jumping

up, he began to dance, flailing

his arms on his giant rock.

The ground began to shake,

the grass began to shine.

This was it! This was the day!

He would be alone no more!

Flowers glowed and swirled around

into a giant ball of light. Holding

his breath he clapped his hands.

BOOM!

Scrambling to his feet – he was

knocked off his giant rock –

he ran to see his own “his own.”

And then he saw the toad.

“Ribbit, ribbit,” it croaked.

“I guess all I can do is make

silly toads,” the Wizard sighed

as he picked up the slimy thing.

Shrugging his shoulders, he

looked into her eyes. “I guess,”

said he, “you are my own ‘my own,’”

and he have his own a big fat kiss.

But then he was kocked off his

feet once more, for the toad was

now a fair maiden! The lovliest

lady of all the land! Pulling her

Wizard up off the ground, she

smiled as she looked into his eyes.

“I am your own ‘your own,’” said she,

“And you are mine.” She then closed

his jaw and kissed his lips, and the

lonely Wizard was lonely no more.