Previous contributions from:
Doreen Hopwood
The Hanging Gardens of Babylon
I pass beneath
trees heavy with blossom,
their creamy flowering
sheds sweet, musty pollen
into the air, overpowering
my senses
A Wizard’s Work is Never Done
Let me tell you why
A wizard’s work is never done,
Why he vainly toils and sighs
With every trick he tries to turn