29 June 2012
A path of hidden stepping stones, Secret crossing now not known, Once a magical market motorway, Where faeries and sprites would play, Rainbow dust piled high on bumblebee backs, While blue and green dust held in sacks, A handful for a golden coin or two, To get a kick, mix a pinch in a brew, Take red and blue to make purple, Step into it once drawn in a circle, Dragon wings from your back will sprout, Beware the side-effect of craving trout, Orange dust will steal your freckles, Violet dust will protect against nettles, Play about with green and blue, And it will help you skip any queue, Put pink and purples together in stripes, And it will call on all the realm's knights,
But now this market path is sadly gone, One fateful opening at dawn, A bedraggled bumblebee rebelled, Interrupted dust being spelled, The dust-spelling wizard in question, Knew not the risks of his profession, The faerie traders looked on in despair, As the bee's collision sent him up in the air, A wizard should never fly, that is true, But dear, oh dear, this one hadn't a clue, As he tumbled back to earth, He forgot the dusts worth, Exploding on contact, a firecracker blast, For days it did last, Mixing all the colours of all dust types, Cancelling out all their magical delights, Out it went into the world all grey, To lurk and hide until cleaning day.
Dust Market • Opuss № I