Riddikulus!

In a shadowed tent of red and gold,
A Boggart stirred, fierce and cold.
Death rose up, my deepest fright,
Grim and tall in candlelight.
No wand I held, my brush instead,
Dipped in hue, the spell was said:
“Riddikulus!” with one quick stroke,
Fear turned fool in crimson cloak.
Now a jester, bones and grin,
Slumped in velvet, bells hang thin.
Coins lie spilled, wine stands still,
Phoenix trapped, posters peel.
We paint to mock what terrors bring,
Brush as wand makes shadows sing.
“Riddikulus!”, the colors call,
Death’s a clown who waits for all.

This work is accompanied with a large scale ChromSculpt Master print, framed and signed.