I’m a wizard, I’m a warlock,
I’m a wonder of the age.
I’m a sorcerer, magician,
prestidigitator, mage.

I can change into a chicken,
or perhaps a purple pig.
I can wave my wand and, presto,
I’m a waffle with a wig.

With the power in my pinky
I can burst like a balloon
or transform into a tiger
with the head of a baboon.

If I wiggle on my earlobe
or I knock upon my knee
I become a dancing doughnut
or a turtle in a tree.

Just a simple incantation
and I deftly disappear,
which I never should have done
because I’ve been this way all year.

And despite my mighty magic
I’m impossible to see,
for I never learned the spells I need
to turn back into me.