Wizard Eyebrows (A Tangleroot Farce)

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When my queen tells me I must trim
my eyebrows till neat and prim,
I say, “Why should I, anyhow,
when it is my wizard’s brow?”

Then she urges me with decree
to sheer them, like bush or tree,
and at such times I must remind
why brows are not kept in kind.

I say, “Each conductor of mine
is a transistor ley line,
and they channel such vast power
as within Merlin’s tower.”

“Cosmic energies they focus
like a coiled karma locus,
or an altar to gods quite old
whose fires have not wavered cold.”

“My queen, would you deprive your court
of the powers of the sort
in measure like Gandalf the White,
shaving his beard ‘fore the fight?”

“Moreover, I must proudly state
that my brows intimidate
ogres, witches, fairies, and trolls,
dragons, goblins and lost souls.”

“Nor do only such foul creatures
fall to my feathered features,
but knights and ladies, lords and kings
are swayed by the winged things.”

“By means of mien wisely strengthened
with wondrous brows quite lengthened
and aspect accented so strong,
I enchant ere I look long.”

And so saying, I flap my brows
to overrule my queen’s vows—
to ensorcell her womanhood
abed, as lovers would.

Alas, my charms affect her not,
such is my unlucky lot,
angering her upon her throne
so that night I slept alone.

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