Dinner with the Djinn

In a few seconds the light decreased in
Lustre from dazzling brightness to a pale
Spectacle of flickering candlelight.
A djinn told me that I had summoned him,
I’d craved a place at his table and here  
He was, offering his invitation.

He conjured a dark chamber lit with lamps,
Where odours of pungent oils, frankincense
And ambergris hung in the solid air.
He conjured a table of meat and wines,
Saying, this is your exclusive banquet,
But I knew this was my funeral feast.

I fought him by conjuring emerald
Meadows, but with sweet asphodel blooming
I was only conjuring my afterlife.
He took my ring, bid me sleep and tried to
Invite my slumber with a song, but I
Grabbed the ring and placed it on my finger.

I was possessed by a frightening power.
A great noise boomed, I flew into the air,
The djinn sped thunder-like behind me.
A grim fight ensued; I, holding on to
The ring, which curled and stung me as I flew,
And the djinn screaming he’d not be cheated.

Suddenly, I was on a tennis court.
The djinn had vanished, and spectators threw
Bunches of bright flowers onto the court.
The umpire spoke, “first set to the poet,
Who summoned the djinn by trying to live
While suffocating her dreams and fancies.”