Magna of Illusion

Cornwall and the harbor

Where witches went mad more than once

And until this day in dreams at least

The lighthouse at

Lost Christabel

Squat and hugely tilts upon the strand

Where Granddad's house was built

And having stood the test of time

The starry gale the bloody tide

Granddad's house though gaped with hooks

And filled with books

Could stand no more until a certain prophecy

Once read now stood, before the world fulfilled

Now of these books in

Granddad's keep

Some of them were new but mostly they were old

And the oldest was a scroll, a prophecy that read

When the riddle begins the story will end

August, the

First 1892 and in the guise of destiny

Granddad quit

Cornwall, "I'm a captain of a shipMy ship is charmed and called Plutonia"

Stories on land, storms at sea 'tween 1892 and '93

When Granddad sailed for

MexicoShips charmed and ordinary

Sailed the glide path to the sun

And when the sun proved false

As it always does

Some of them would be lost

And some would sail back home

It was no star but a magna of illusion

I mean by that, the mirror found

In the chamber of jade

Grown like a seed, deep within the ground

The mirror found by one man

So on and off again

He sailed the

Europe's rim

On and off, off and on

Until his time had come

Through tears and smiles, the last domain

The rods of broken crystal

On and off and off again until his time had come

Late to the story that had been

But early to the riddle not yet begun

August, the

First 1893

The charmed ship

PlutoniaSailed like a ray into

CornwallAnd none too soon it seems

That night the

Captain's granddaughter

Would celebrate her birthday"I've come a long way", said the

Captain"From Lost Christabel this night""Accompanied by my dog familiarTo blast your rafters with my surpriseGranddaughter, it's a foreign mirrorTaken from the jungle by crime"

Stories on land, storms at sea'

Tween 1892 and '93

When Granddad sailed for

MexicoWhen tables collapse

And floors have filled

And the party's over, it's all over

Sea-dogs and rockers will dwell on doom

I've warped the stuff of ground

What seems to be is not

Behind closed eyes

Realize your sight

Mine, granddaughter, proves a surprise

More light than sun

More dark than night

Then more a snare than lust