The Magic Box I will put in the box A glimpse of worries from the 13th month, A whisper of lies of fear and love , A second of incredible dry water. Riddles of the black sun on the 8th day, A rumble of magic from the graveyard above, A river running backwards showing people their dreams. The hottest ball of fire that is dry while it is wet , A lifetime of living your worst fear while you get a glimpse of joy, A calling of life and death that never starts and never ends . As small as a matchbox , It can fit in my pocket , Covered with blue with a hint of green , With waves that move , Sounds like waves clashing , Hard like the titanium but smooth like the sand . You use a matchstick to open it , In a hole in the sand . By Hannah Lamb and Marie Dempsey