You come with your neon hair and painted face,
delighting children ages five to ten.
They laugh at your red nose and your silly smile,
never paying attention to your bloodshot eyes.
There goes a parade of animal balloons
and slapstick acts that never go out of style.
You performed with such flair, without sweat,
like a pro you amazed, you enthralled.
You weave your magic and hold them entranced,
playing with their imagination with your glove covered hands.
Out comes Mr. Rabbit from your old battered hat,
then come the card tricks, everyone loved that.
Who can resist your little magic act?
The children loved it and begged for more,
this was exactly what you’ve been waiting for.
You told them to close their eyes and count to three
and you’ll show them magic they have never seen.
They closed their eyes and counted till three,
and when they opened their eyes you were gone, disappeared.
Where did you go they asked, where could you be?
They didn’t realize that it was not you who vanished
but each and every single one of them who loved your magic.
You stole their souls just like you did before,
you drank their joy and ate their laughter.
And now you’ve gone and spirited them away,
trapped their souls in your glowing glass balls
that now hang around your Christmas tree.
-The Elusive Scribe 103013-