Small amber embers bloom in smoky swirls, some ling-
ering in the air. I travel on a smoke ring.
Trickery and slight-of-hand transport me like moonbeam.
Through a charmed mystery I travel. On a smoke ring,
So wispy thin and tenuous beneath my feet,
Directed by magic I travel on. A smoke ring
Of enchantment has embraced my fantasy,
In chimeratic seas I travel. On a smoke ring,
A gray puff of phantasmagoric artifice,
Can this truly be I? Travel on a smoke ring
Can be but sorcery, illusion or deception.
It’s a wicked witchcraft I travel on. A smoke ring
Conjuring potent prestidigitation has charmed
L. E. the Old Goat, and I travel on a smoke ring.