Mark Heathcote (22/03/66 / Manchester)
Elf’s came to shake awake the bluebells
Elves came to shake awake the bluebells
But first had to leave; their warmth.
It was a tiny house covered in snow.
Hidden ever so well; from grizzly trolls…
O how the Elves dance and played.
Within the memories of a distant glade!
“Then went home brandishing a blue-jewel.
Sailing back; on an upturned toadstool.
They sang empting their hearts gold.
Like a wave they waved goodbye…
To a distant glade, tears uncontrolled.
Like a wave they waved goodbye.
O with a heart of winter struggle!
They headed home weary but happy!
They climbed the mountain entombed
In ice; to sleep to dream and snuggle.
…Knowing butterflies begin to flitter-
Flutter and moths are dreamy eyed;
To discover a new star a new lover.
'So we’re all left breathless to preside.
As elf’s bluebells brakes their woodland cover!
Where: elfish men are ever so well hidden.
O Shangri-La in their bunks, in their hearts
Taking, another dignified, doze by the dozen'...
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