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There, on the mountains, with the desert below
The Ring of Enchantment shines brightly, aglow
On the hot sand, she stands, awaiting your arrival
Hoping you’ll adapt to the heat, for your survival
A warning, she echoes, though quite unconcerned
Dare not touch the ring, for alas, you’ll be burned
By the power it holds, from the orb’s beaming rays
Perhaps it is better, if you turned, walked away
But, there’s no chance of that, this ring is of gold
You never break the pull, of the sun and her hold
November Writing Prompt – The Ring of Enchantment – Day 20/30
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Night Owl Poetry - Dorinda Duclos 