Deep in a magic forest, with big old magic trees
And all the magic creatures that live inside of these
There is a magic island, upon a magic lake
And on the island stands a stool, the like no man could make
And on the stool from dawn to dusk, resides a little man
Who spends his days in deeper thought, than any mortal can…
How does he think so many thoughts, well you must realize,
That though the man is small, his head is twice the normal size.
And as for food, well first of all he quite likes eating bugs
Beetles spiders, grass hoppers, slimy snails and salty slugs!
Inside his beard he keeps a hive, so honey he can eat,
And sips the dew from roses, which he grows atop his feet…
And when the night time brings the cold, the old man doesn't care
He simply covers up, with all his long and tangled hair!
Regardless of his oddities, the man is still renowned,
For being quite the wisest man, who never can be found.
This poem was told to me by a young Fairy on the road to a Wishing Well near my house.