"Abracadabra" said Maurice le Mage, twirling his black and white wand.
"I need some assistants to spice up my act, to glamourise my finest tricks.
No harm will befall if you join me on stage, please know that my word is my bond.
Pretty young lady, up there at the back, you're one of my very first picks."
Reluctantly Molly arose from her seat and wandered right down to the front.
The wizard applauded as Molly lay down on a trolley atop four small wheels.
"You're terribly kind, Miss," said Maurice le Mage, "for helping me out with this stunt.
When sawing a lady in half, which comes next, I expect not to hear any squeals."
He lifted the thin wooden covers and artfully placed one o'er Molly's top end.
Her head was projecting, her face white with fear, as the other concealed both her legs.
The trolley spun round, le Mage took dead aim, his sharp saw began to descend.
The girl said her prayers, she knew she was dead, as sure as hens' eggs were hens' eggs.
The next thing she knew, she seemed split in two, her head was confronting her feet.
She started to fidget, she wiggled her digits, she couldn't believe she could move.
This strange man of Magic, he wasn't so tragic, he'd pulled off a mind-blowing feat.
As he put her together, she didn't know whether, he'd anything more left to prove.
He pulled back the covers, extended a hand, and helped Molly down to the floor.
Although quite unsteady, she seemed right and ready, and feeling remarkably well.
"How did you just do that?" asked Molly of Maurice 'midst audience shouts of "Encore."
Le Mage smiled and bowed, playing up to the crowd, "I had you right under my spell."
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| Writing Prompt |
Write a rhyming poem about a wizard whose spells always rhyme. The rhyme scheme is ABAB |
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