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?
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.
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.