The Alter table came from rubbish, I freely admit
Yet, after some clever crafting, it has no less than a high priestess fit
It is round, and ever willing to bend
It holds Magick and Wonders that never end
Upon it, I cast my peaceful ways
Lit candles burn there, through the nights and days
There is a rock, a shell, driftwood and sage
Incantations written in script on a parchment page
Oh holy alter, know all of my heart
Permit me to craft my sacred magic, how wondrous, thou art.
How wonderful, Gran! Magick a little luck my way, would ya?
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I will, let me know what kind of Magick Ralphie?
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