Splendid Spells

It’s lasting in his puppy smile,
and mirrored in his famous rims.
A glowing mystic magic tune,
sleeps inside their sweet acid hymns.

It’s etched across the little lines,
that are redrawn out from his eyes,
like streams of mystic conjured words.
Prophets in a sing-song disguise.

Through their fingers the magic runs,
and bounces outward from their song.
Like charms and spells their lyrics trance,
and pull the butterflies along.

The great ones have their pockets full,
of shaman lips and fancy spells,
and humble vocal fairy dust,
with their golden Hare Krishna bells.

Their rhythmic tones are peppermint,
with spiraled sweet tasting honey,
and with just a thought of their song.,
the skylines turn gold and sunny.

Even after the last cord’s strum,
it stays aloft in the still air,
by the wrinkled wizards of sound,
and then strewn in their chocolate hair.

In tuning of their vocal spells,
there’s a sprinkle of silver light,
that leaves footprints and music notes,
to show the world The Beatles’ might.