I never was born a wizard
I chose another path
While still living a life filled with magic
I did not go to some fancy wizard school in England
I learned my spells from the school of hard knocks.
Even Merlin was shocked by my sorcery
He told me that day that my spells are of a foreign nature.
Perhaps this was why I made such a lasting impression.
This was my first time in their kingdom after all.
Merlin showed me spell after spell that day, potion after potion
But none of his wand waving could ever wield any whiskey
I told him I was a warlock, trained in the art of brewing bourbon
Straight out of the hills of the Kingdom of Kentucky
While my spells were not paranormal
They were perfect, my booze warmed everyone supernaturally
Without any sort of witchcraft to guide me along the way.
If only they knew my power was crafting cocktails and concoctions
For my incantations are rooted in the art of mixology
C.L. Butler is an Afro-Dutch poet, essayist, and historian from Philadelphia, PA based in Houston, TX. His work has been featured in Perhappened, Trampset Magazine, Lucky Jefferson, Versification, and NewPages.
Categories: Wasted Wizards & Witches