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	Sorcerer's Pot The ingredients come together as the cauldron is stirred round and round, The vortex grows longer as it snakes hungrily towards the ground. Like the dragons of ancient lore or born of a sorcerer’s wrath, They descend from the darkened sky to destroy what’s in their path. It becomes black as the night as it draws up debris, How strong is the monster the sorcerer's pot has set free. It roars with a fury human lips could never make, Fear of the black caldron makes us whimper and shake. We pray for our hero the strong and mighty white knight, To slay this evil monster and bring back the cleansing light. JRS © 10-10-01 The "Okie" Poet Questions or Comments All poems copyrighted ã1997-... Spring Creations The "Okie" Poet All Rights Reserved