The abjurer will get nowhere quite fast,
each feels the tang as the evil gnat bites;
at noon the father (Abba) of the rites
will over the green Terra magic cast.
In the crag pent, the demon's free at last
but, free to irk and vex, it sets its sights
on getting us to flap in sync, for nights
and days -- bar one -- it has its rights.
Now, given that Cher's not the one who's pure
and at the onyx pendant will not balk,
we've got to navigate with astrolabe
until we've come to a landmark that's sure;
I realise that's subject to much common talk
but we'll defend the honour of honest Abe.