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She went to the grand wizard
Babe at her bosom, herself sunken and sallow of face
"Just one simple spell" she asked
And wanted no more, truly with all of her heart
Against snickers swirling the chamber, he took pity
Ceding her solicitation
"Magic will be wasted on her,” the whispers and shouts said
But the wizard scoffed
"How could one low as she threaten me? Or any of you?" And thereby silenced the chatter
Grateful she left, child at breast
But crying and fussing no more.
She knew it not yet, but one day they'd regret
Giving her this small slice of magic.
From all around, the mothers they came
Stumbling one over another
Not in a rush, simply too tired to see one in front of t'other
For the spell that she asked
Truly was small, though by no means simple
All she had wished was for quiet and calm from the babe in her arm and the power to speak it to be
So the mothers all asked
For one night of peace
And kindly she always would grant it
The mothers came to her from all 'cross the land
Til the wizard, less grand
Found his magic unfurled
A new most powerful in the world
The witch whose only spell
Was to help a mother sleep.
Bio: Jason P. Burnham is an infectious diseases physician and clinical researcher. He loves many things, among them sci-fi, his wife, sons, and dog, metal music, Rancho Gordo beans, and equality (not necessarily in that order).
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Image from Hill’s Manual of Social and Business Forms, by Thos. E. Hill, 1886
