Rainbows are illusions –
There are no pots of gold,
And unicorns have never grazed
In emerald fields of old.
No knight in shining armor
Has ever rode a day
To save a damsel in distress
And carry her away.
Merlin the magician
Was a phony and a fraud –
King Arthur but a fiction tale
That causes one to nod.
Wizards are a special breed
Of fantasy it seems,
And magic castles little more
Than figments of our dreams.
And what of dragons long extolled;
Flying lizards breathing fire?
I do believe the product of
Some pathological liar.
There dwell no trolls beneath the bridge
To thwart it’s passage way –
Belief in goblins, ghouls, and ghosts
Has long since passed away.
Wicked witches have never flown
On gnarled brooms of straw,
And gypsies with their crystal balls
Is truth stretched much too far.
And yet, of all these fairy tales,
The hardest to believe?
This silly notion we call “Love”…
What utter fantasy!
