Magic
Create
Isn’t a command
Magic lends no hand
Ahem
Paint
She flicks her wrist
Without a brush is only a wish
She double-checks her circling motion
Curious if it was a mistake she opt-out of concocting a potion
Ahem
This time tapping her foot
Create
She demands
Nothing but a puff of soot
Taken back, she takes another look
Promising
Opening the spellbook her spidey senses are shook
Hmmm
In not so fine print it warns,
Creativity is free. Not to be cast upon thee
Scoff, how has it missed me?
Revenge of Eve 