A riddle in rhyme, in response to Eugi’s weekly prompt, “magic”. What are the Orb, Staff and Crown?
Take the Orb, the Staff, the Crown,
bury them, shallow, in the ground.
Now wait you for the planet’s turn,
for snow to melt, for sun to burn,
then sprinkle on the potent brew,
of blood and bone, manure too.
Then rising from the earth, in time:
the startings of a dinner fine,
a sweet to make a maiden sigh,
and a posy to enchant the eye.