Because Everything is Poetic, If You Think About It Enough

The prompt for today was science.... I am not much of a scientist, even if reading things like The Physics of Star Trek and Darwin's Black Box, give something of a different impression. I would love to write something sweeping and epic, about the vastness of the outer universe in macro dimensions, and the equally vast inner universe of microscopic space. But that is entirely outside my capabilities. Which is why this is about the best I can manage with science poetry:

A magnet always points to North.

At six it seems like sorcery

A needle to gain that property

By little rubbing back and forth.

'Science' is how the textbook read

  But so like to a magic spell

To make a needle Northward tell

And set it hanging it by a thread.

And wizardry, that water holds

A bit of metal on its skin

Magnatised, to quiver and spin

And rest - aligning to the poles.

A practical, primal, Earthly thing

Harnessed since antiquity

Yet sorcery it seemed to me

Scrying North with water and string.