Let me paint you a scene of a dark, stormy night,
Thunder and lightning are ruling the skies,
There’s a old back alleyway, bereft of any street light
And there, halfway down it, an Antique shop hides.
As you pass through the shop door, a little bell rings
But there seems no-one about to answer it’s call
Stood before you, on desk packed with ancient things
Is a bottle, shining bright, seemingly tipped to fall.
‘Please Help me’ it cries, in a voice filled with fear,
As the spirit inside it has been trapped for some time,
A fluorescent blue light seems intent to draw you near
As reaching out, you vaguely hear a warning chime.
At the rear of the shop is a brass ornamental gong,
It sounds it’s dire warning should Old Magic be used
But, alas too late for you, you’ve heard the siren song
You grasp the bottle, spirits are swapped, then fused
Let me paint you a scene of a dark and stormy night,
Where an Antique shop windows are dusty and old
Inside which, placed on desk, is a bottle, shining bright
You are contained, crying “Please help me, I’m so cold”
LadyP © 2010