I got Magic by Philip Burton

Aged eight, I got magic. All wrapped up.  
Came as a set. Said CONJURE ME. On the lid. 
Had a black and white stick. 
For tapping on things. To shake magic free. 
I sat there hours. Bashing a toy top hat. 
No pigeon flew out. Did on TV. 
I sat there days. Saying spells. 
May as well have been talking to myself. 
Turned out. The little book. Of instructions. 
Had fallen. Been kicked. Under the sofa. 
My sister. Thundery ructions. 
I studied the easy tricks first and worked  
my way up to THE CHINESE PAGODA illusion 
in which, with a wave and a jerk 
you suddenly grow up 
and lose the magic.