 Wandering Wizard
presents He treads upon rainbows and smells like a rose. He hides out in places that nobody mentions, Found only by those with the truest intentions. He lives where the mermaids sit combing their locks. He hangs out with centaurs and large purple rocs. He hobnobs with goblins and polkadot gryphons, With ethical lawyers and clean politicians.  But most people think he’s a legend, it seems: An empty extension of childhood dreams. But I see a lot of this “mythical” beast. I must see him ten times a day at the least. I see him on lunch boxes small children eat from, In windows of bookstores I live down the street from, In toystores alongside the likes of Han Solo, And even on shirts in which preppies play polo.  He’s grazing quite peacefully next to a dragon In back of my new next-door neighbor’s volkswagon. He gets into mischief that no one could pardon. A basilisk caught one invading my garden. Though I just threw him out not a week ago Sunday, He mailed me a stack of self-portraits on Monday. He said “I have just met a Hollywood giant Who asked me if I would sign on as his client, And if his big plans should pan out with no hitch, Then I can expect to be famous and rich.” 
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