by Nick Gisburne
Mysterious in magic, life, and luck
Experienced enchanters glide with grace
But all he brings are passion, pride and pluck
To ride around the moon and win the race
A second-hand, decrepit, fourth-grade wand
Competes with potent, elemental charms
His broomstick, from the back end of beyond
Is crooked, with a quirky coat of arms
Despite the spells and secrets he prepared
He ranks beyond the bottom of the list
But fortune scowls on those who never dared
And magic’s greatest race must not be missed
His rivals are impossible to beat
Without a word of ancient wisdom: cheat
