The Magic Prisoner. (Completed).

 Outside her apartment the city awakes.

Cold stone cold stone cold yellow stone -

Walls and columns -

                                   Yellow stone -

Floors and doorways carved from stone -

Ice smooth yellow stone.

"And I am so lonely", she cries to the wind

As the traffic coughs awake in the streets below

And the traders set out their stalls.

Cold stone cold stone cold yellow stone -

The broken parapet -

                                   Yellow stone -

The tables - beds and chairs - all stone -

Ice smooth yellow stone.

"He has been gone all year", she cries to the wind

That tears at the trees in the streets below

So they shudder like frightened dreamers.

Cold stone cold stone cold yellow stone -

Young hearts and hands and lips of stone -

Adamantine stone.

"He has the key, but I know he will not return

To magic this prison back into our home

Of bright coloured walls warm to the touch -

His children have forgotten his name"

Cold stone cold stone cold yellow stone -

The lock in the door has turned to stone -

The carpets and cushions are changed to stone -

To ice smooth yellow stone.

"He has the key, but now it rusts on a chain

In a place I cannot reach - In a place I cannot know".

Cold stone cold stone cold yellow stone -

Rust colours of sunset filtered through snow.

Trevor John Karsavin Potter.

18th. - 19th.  January 2023.

From an idea first sketched in 1962, before I fully understood the magic and power of folk tales.