Fluttermill Park

If you enter through The rusty back gate Messily labeled 105 and Walk thirty steps to your right, You will come across A beaten path Overgrown with forgotten weeds And the remnant leaves of autumn. But twenty steps into the forest, A maple tree stands alone amongst thorny bushes. And if you stray here from the path Fifty-eight steps through the branches, Listen closely. For you can hear the hinges Of a small wooden door Leading to the home of an elf Where she returns from her gathering, Bakes acorn-pie, And uses buttons to set the table. If you stay silent Little pixies With insect-like wings– Some with the wings of a bee Or wings of the teal dragonfly– Flutter between leaves, Collecting soft foliage To sew clothing In their homes within the trees. Keep your eyes peeled, And you may see a gnome Walking up a hill in the distance Peeking under logs and bushes Searching for his squirrel companion. Then you blink, And they are gone.