Misplayed Spell

 "The outcome is doubtful." he said to the supplicant.
"But is it to be dreadful?" He was asked in turn.
"It's hard to say without having all the elements to hand,
but I'll know a week tomorrow - then you can return.

"Should I burn an offering?" He was asked.
"There's no need. What gave that notion?"
"It's just that I want the spell to work, Magister."
"You came to me for a reason, it needs but a potion."

The mists of Avalon were swirling round their ankles
 as they waded through the fen.
Dragonflies, beetles, muskrats and shrews
avoided the chattering men.

Arriving at the magic-made place,
the two quaffed fine black tea from India,
and shared scones from his butter case.
They spoke of nonsense and everlasting trivia.

Time passed, as it often does.
Anon the spell material appeared.
After a week had gone by, 
The Magister set to create the weird.

The incantation took some time,
as the wizard's strength was flagging.
The farmer's request was profound -
the sorcery begat soul dragging.

His invocation succeeded in
casting a solid glamour.
From the ashes of the sacrifice,
came a talisman for amour. 

"Keep this about your person, good sir,
when near the object of your affection.
She'll never resist your love and attention.
You'll find your satisfaction."

" Magister. I'm most grateful, but...
I wanted a milk spell on my cow's behalf -
 whose tired teats have dried, despite
the birth of her lovely brown calf."

"Oh, my dear sir - how unfortunate.
I understand your need now.
Tthere's nought to be done.
 but to give that poor cow
the benefit of this spell,
and hope that all will be well."

After a fortnight had passed,
the farmer came with a  jug of finest cream.
"Thank you, Magister! Daisy's milk came fast -
 there's plenty for the calf...it's like a dream!"

And that, children, is how a love spell ended well.
The moral of the story is thus and so, now:
Before casting a spell, be sure you can tell...
if the supplicant  wants a mate...
or to heal a cow.

©Ellen Pepper 2026