Ode to Magic

Magic, Thou art the greatest instrument

When thou art performed all viewers shall faint.

Thine illusions leave reality bent

And with surreality pictures paint.

To what sculpture wouldst I compare thy work?

Which book could outdo thee with thy weak words?

No art may ever compare to thine own

No statue might cause thy lorry to shirk,

And words to thee are poor, fit for none but birds,

For Thou art the greatest and thou alone.