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Gnomes in the bedroom, faeries in the hall.
Fey folks all over, none of them are too tall.
Night time magic giggles hilarious to me.
Of course mischief galore, everywhere you see.

Nefarious gnomes cannot be reasoned with.
Brownies join in.  They give me a quick sniff.
My husband is hiding under a stack of junk.
He thought this make believe was bunk.

My deep easy sleep is a thing of the past now.
They are singing, and one is beginning to growl.
Crazy laughter is traveling all over the house.
I am excited. Hubby is beginning to grouse. 

Are they tipsy or what my unhappy husband has groaned.
They are not drinkers, I told him from my place on the throne.
They are merely coming to pay respects to me.
For I am the one who opened the magic oak tree.

How long will they stay he asked with concern.
I knew I did not know, and might never learn.
The fey folks do not share their time tables or their way.
For all I knew they were staying six months and a day.

Fix some peanut butter sandwiches, I urged him.
They do not like the smell. This was a sudden whim.
They swarmed out the door as soon as he popped the lid.
Back tomorrow! One yelled. Through the door she promptly slid.

Why can’t you paint canvases of ordinary stuff?
My husband accused me. His face was a puff.
I like faeries, gnomes and elves I said, really quite pleased.
Knowing they would return on the next holiday breeze.

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