I heard their voices, soft and low, that summer afternoon,
After lunch, when the dishes were done, and the drapes were drawn in my room.

I must have nodded off to sleep, in that dreamy light,
For then I woke with jump and a start.

Don’t you ever wake in fright?

They droned like the wings of a honey bee, foraging for fruit,
Underneath my mulberry tree, where they sat on a great, gnarled root.

Elves!
– emboldened by my age, chatting in my garden,
No need to ask, or seek my leave, no thank you or beg pardon.
Elves! –
–from the magic kingdom, enchanted and sublime, where once, I courted their Princess, when I was in my prime.

The language they spoke,
And the topics they broached,
Were all a mystery to me,

But the Elves of the wood,
Were up to no good,
Under my mulberry tree.

My Princess of such fantasy, will live forever and ever,
But I am of the mortal world, and Life from me will sever.
I recalled the urgent thrill, and the pain of sweet delight,
the wasted days of vain endeavour, never to requite.

And so, one day, my elfin love, no longer came to visit.
The years rushed past and I grew old;
not surprising, is it?

It breaks my heart
To say from the start,
Our courtship was most crushing.
I’ll tell you all,
I’m six feet tall,
And she stood one foot nothing!

Sometimes in the years that intervened, they’d steal into my fold,
In search of warmth and sustenance, and shelter from the Winter’s cold.
I’d leave some bread and sugar cubes, by the fireside hearth,
With a bowl of water and some soap, so they could take a bath.

Since then, I’ve seen them now and again, but we always keep to ourselves,
There are dangers for the temporal world, in the Kingdom of the Elves.

Now…
… as the shadows start to spread, and the stars begin shimmer,
My beard grows long, and my hair turns grey, and the light in my eyes grows dimmer.

Now…
… the evening breeze arrives, though gentle, soft and slow.
The rustling leaves and swaying boughs, proclaim it’s time to go.

The conversation now is done, no more can there be said,
And so, its time in woodland realms,
for Elves to go to bed.  

Let us sing them a lullaby, and hope they spread their wings,
To fly on the wind of child-like dreams, to the land of elfin things.