I cannot explain
The presence of magic
With mere mortal words
Or even prove it's eternal existence
Without sounding quite absurd

Ancient secrets lay benign
Within the Poet's rhymes
There lies the powers
Of love and hate sublime

In a slight of hand the eyes react
Under written messages
Slip through the cracks
Suddenly we're caught up in
A spinning spiritual trance
Raised arms
Voicing strange hypnotic chants
We dance through the gardens
Of lost hopes, mingled with romance
And we're never coming back!