As A junior elf, I learned a few tricks
like how to shoot an arrow through a pear as it fell to the ground
and how to talk to crickets without making a sound
but what I knew already held me in good sway at meal times
I used to say ‘
There’s nothing worst than being an elf
I say that in poor health
For all the creatures on the land
Its the elf who has to lend a hand
to show the corn which way to shoot
To tell the pig which is leaf and which and which is root
Theres no such look in being an elf’
And then drink slowly that which is taken from a tree and fermented with glee into Honey mead beer that pigs would eat with glee. Ha Ha HA! said I goadingly
At midnight when the moon is high I, hollowed reed in hand, write tales of the land and in it, my loves: people and places, animals and trees and I whisper carefully in order that men and elves shall prosper!
In leaves, it is written and for the lore, I seek the wisdom of elders and butterflies. But for now, I must go and sort out the waste problem we have here in the forest of Edgbaston Hallow, where pigs eat us out of house and home.
Farewell and soon betrothed to another!