Lottery (an acrostic poem)

Living day to day, depending on his luck for sustenance

Orbiting his need for money and his need to be creative

The two pulling in opposite directions, their tidal forces ripping him apart

Today was a day where art and hunger went hand in hand as he painted

Every ounce of his imagination was placed on the canvas stroke by stroke

Revealing a mixture of magic and his soul, bound in sweat and paint

Yet it didn’t sell, leaving him destitute and feeling like he lost at life

Story (an acrostic poem)

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So what would you say if I told you that magic really does exist

That it surrounds you, but you don’t even notice it

Or that you probably have magic in your house right now

Really. Lean in close and let me tell you a secret

You only need to open a book and let it cast its spell on you

Spell (an acrostic poem)

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So do you believe in the magic that surrounds you?

Pushing the fantastical into the factual

Enabling imagination to define reality

Letting wonder bloom in the field of drab predictability

Let’s drink deep of this fever dream and cast our fancy into the world

Kite (an acrostic poem)


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Know how to fly, little one?

It involves string, cloth, structure, and magic

The first three are needed to make the object

Eventually the last is provided by the young ones watching it soar

Dream (an acrostic poem)

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Diving deep under the covers to embrace sleep

Racing into a realm of magic, wonder, and amazement

Engaging in a disastrous discussion with a pompous platypus

As the house of cards you built burns because you only had two pair…

Maybe you should have not eaten that peperoni pizza before going to bed

Blind (an acrostic poem)

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Believe in what cannot be seen

Leave the mundane behind and fly with gossamer wings

Infuse your life with the magic around you

Nothing can really hold you back when you brace the impossible

Don’t hesitate and close your eyes and see

Create (an acrostic poem)

Can’t make anything out of nothing

Really that’s a crock of bull

Everyone knows storytellers weave lies into whole cloth

And wrap you up inside nice and snug

That’s the stuff godhood is made of

Even if the magic eventually fades into memory

 

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