Of leprechauns and magic things
the little sparrow’s known to sing,
It fluffs its feathers in the storm,
for promises of rainbows
outweigh any dark cloud’s harm.
Currents aswim within the air
whisper softly of beauty rare,
like unicorns and meadows green,
a touch of velvet, a wisp of wing,
and of such sights
so seldom seen.
Beside the ancient garden wall-
a work of art in mossy stone-
the wee folk whistle while they work
or play amongst the parsley stems
on tiny slides and old rope swings.
While the marigolds are blooming
and rosemary is making rhyme,
there upon each little toadstool
sits a young elf keeping thyme. (Elves
are noted gard’ners of the lovely
They tend to every stalk and bloom
with the tenderest of concern,
While they work, the sparrow sings
and all the elfin children dream
of leprechauns and magic things.