TheWizard's gone and gone my heart.

The Wizard  
By Linda A. Copp

There's no Magic in the mountains now,
the Wizard's gone you see.
I can tell the way the clouds, hang down,
to cloak and cover me.

Yes! I can feel it in the air,
and it's raining everywhere.

The Sorcerer took his spells,
his maps and wands, as well.
Whispered incantations,
never more to hear.
His colors have all gone
Gone and left me here,
with eyes too dead to tear.

The mist comes rolling in,
the ghosts of where we've been
come back to haunt again!

Now, I've reached his hallowed, hollow cave,
with all he's left for me.
His tattered, faded cloak,
a book or two,
of worn and wearing print,
Yes,
And all the time we've spent.

Spell Book
The books I don't understand them,
or why he's gone and fled.
Just wish that I were dead.

For when he went,
He took my soul
There's little left of me.
He's left me and he's gone
But, where?

He's left me here to cry
and never know just why.
Why he blu'ied up my sky,
to rip it asunder
with this good-bye.

Yet, when I look upon these walls,
His mirrored reflection comes,
comes to heal and numb.

But, I cannot touch it, No.
Nor can it speak to me.
Just illusion, images,
all kinds of fantasies,
Maybe that's all he was meant to be.
Just the things I think
I see.

His spells been almost broken now,
As if it never were,
My illusions disappear.
But, I ache o'er the great loss,
Of what I thought there was.

I'm as empty as his tattered cloak
and the books I cannot read.
All I do is bleed.
I shiver in the evening chill,
I huddle in his cloak.
I clutch the books unto me.
My heart thuds,
the tears run down my eyes and throat -
And onto these worn pages.
I don't want anyone to find me here
And yet, I cannot go.
Cannot seem to let him go.

This cave is the only home I know,
And he's the only truth, I knew.
Somewhere in the night air,
I hear the music of the wind
and a song he used to sing -
When he'd speak of magic things
Unicorns on wings.

Unicorn with Wings

There's a distant candle burning,
And as my weariness abounds
my deepest recess found.
The chill has struck me down,
The chill has come to numb.


Now, the darkness seems to lift,
as the candle glow grows near.
And as I begin to nod off
I believe I see him here.

There's magic in the mountains once again.
I'm warm and bathed in light
And now, I think I'll sleep.
Lost amidst the darkness,
and the candle glow,
I'm too, weary here tonight.
And I'm too, weary to ask why,
or if this is real
or if this is not good-bye.

Thank God, that he's come back to me
if only in my dreams,
And if I never waken,
Well,
It will be enough for me.

   By Linda A. Copp
© April 26, 1981


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