The ants wave their antenna in anticipation
the bee's do their work in the name of propagation
and as the steamed cake is taken out of the oven
on hilltops the witches hide in secret caverns

The Jackdaw sings to the four winds
thrones are toppled of ancient kings
all the cities slumber ready to wake
when the topping is poured on the magic cake

Toadstools of tales will pop up from the soil
kettles around this aged land will start to boil
the children that have never grown old
will grow with mutuality beings so bold

All the casks from sea wreaked ships
will cast mariners *** onto their lips
for all that do dwell here so await
that wondrous sweet, the magic cake

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

By NeonSolaris
© 2013 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)