Magic Circle, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz


Magic Circle, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Thy magic so powerful winds obey.
Those locked in every crypt thou may conjure.
Ouroboros that save, thou wear today.
All this as to make thee feel more secure.

Magic circle in the ground that thou trace,
May call the spirits to yield prophecy,
Will not this night for certain keep thou chase,
For thou heard the Ancient’s colloquy.

Tis I who has power ov’r heart that sits
Beneath thy breast. Thou needs to remember
The oath. This night we are joined it posits.
We shall make love ‘til the final ember.

Thou was given a choice made for thy life.
Power brings strife, now thou are to be wife.


John William Waterhouse is the master of the mystifying.  Many of his painting will be the reverse of what I try to accomplish.  He will take a poem and turn it into a painting, but here it is all Waterhouse.  To build the poem I counted on three visuals.  First the steam coming out of the cauldron was straight up signaling power.  If you ever watched the vapor trail coming from a stack they are cone shaped and trail away given the wind no matter how slight.  Then the circle.  She is drawing the circle to protect herself.  That means she fears someone with powers greater than hers.  And finally ugly versus beauty.  We can see the flower inside the circle but out it is all ugly.  So what is desirable is inside the circle.  In most mythology there is a quid pro quo.  My guess it is due.







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