Baby Elf
April 10, 2019
The Brexit Musketeers
April 15, 2019

New Years Day

How small and sweet is the baby elf, as he deeply sleeps.
Innocent warm and cosy between his pure white sheets
Dreaming of a farm with lots of cows and sheep.
Such a tiny tot, yet when awake, a whirlwind hits the home,
Excitement swirls in every room, toys picked up then thrown down.
Mother elf tickles, her babies toes,
And kisses his head when he’s low.
She knows, what the baby wants, when she hears him fretting,
And soon she has her little elf, content and smiling.

New Year’s Day. Tales from The Elf Tree Kensington Gardens

‘Twas the first of January, New Years Day,
The pixies and elves came out to play.
The air was crisp cold, the sun smiled down,
All were happy, except Badwitch, who watched, with a frown.

Magda, the good witch, had released her sister from her spell,
Hoping Badwitch for the New Year, would behave very well.
She thought to give her sister a chance to be good
But Badwitch was bad, wanting others sad.

Suddenly from nowhere a strong wind came,
Increasing into a gale force, a hurricane.
The pixies and elves were lifted up from the ground,
And hurled into the sky, speeding upward bound.

At first they thought, it was all great fun
Until the houses and trees were behind the sun.
They tried to fly back, with all their might,
But the wind was too strong and pushed them along.

Badwitch watched, with increasing glee,
Her horrid laugh above the howling wind they could hear,
Some of the younger ones were in fear
And one or two shed many a tear.

Faith the fairy sensed something was wrong,
And knew the pixies and gnomes were where they didn’t belong;
The wind and her power, pulled her along,
At last found them, alarmed but unharmed.

Behind Faith came the birds, who flew under the little folk.
As suddenly as it started, the strong wind ceased;
The pixies and elves were transported home by the birds.
There was Magda, who turned her sister back into stone,
Where for a long time Badwitch, was left all alone.