Her new wand fit her hand quite perfectly,
So sleek and slim and light, it felt a part
Of her, a fine extension. What should be
The first spell she would cat with it? A fart
Resounded; her sharpei was off his feed
Again. With one quick flick, the sulphrous smell
Was gone. Delightful! Now, what did she need
To do next? Seelah felt like raising hell!
She soon found she was stymied. Each attempt
At something awesome ended something lame,
Somewhat her will, but dainty, light and kempt,
Destruction quelled, and forces conjured, tame.
Her hopes and asperations ‘gan to sink.
She should have known: her tool was seashell pink.
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