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.