Alone in the lush green <br />forest sits the littlest elf, <br />smiling broadly as the golden sun <br />rises on the fluffy white rabbits <br />that frolic across the moss covered <br />log of a long lived, but fallen tree. <br /> <br />Encumbered by a relatively large <br />pain au raison, he examines it <br />with glee. <br /> <br />He licks his fingers of the last <br />bits of confection and laughs as <br />he thinks of the day ahead. <br /> <br />Surely he will dance by the deep <br />blue brook, play hide and seek with <br />his elfin friends and take a sleepy <br />afternoon nap in the farmer's <br />wheat field. <br /> <br />His breakfast finished and his <br />morning planned he skips happily <br />back home to change from his sleeping <br />smock into colourful spring day clothes.<br /><br />John Kipling Lewis<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-littlest-elf/
