The embers still sizzled and crackled,
the fire had slept through the night,
he stoked them now for scrying,
fuelled by magic and fright.
The flames were soon rekindled,
red tongues licking anew,
he prodded these flames with sticks and spells
for images pure and true.
In their dance he saw the outline
of a round and bumbling beast,
which formed into a figure
as the wizard's fear increased.
Four stubby legs, two blunted tusks,
it finished with a cork-screw tail,
two beady eyes and matted fur;
at all this the wizard grew pale.
"Oh no," lamented the wizard.
"A boar, a pig, a hog!
Surely he's eaten my acorn,
surely taken it agog."
But from the flames and to the tracks
his crying eyes did wander.
What if they passed on through the thicket?
What if they carried on yonder?