Behind the elm at the foot of the garden.
There´s an invisible elf both earnest and ardent.
Many a man tilted his head by that tree, to get it´s wisdom.
Yet it was the serious elf whispering in the branches hidden.
It happened one day as the woodcutter lay and pondered on felling the majestic elm.
Above the leaves appeared the elf from a strange foreign realm.
He did not speak, though when he opened his mouth came a torrent of ideas.
Each one went into the woodcutters mind as if he could really hear.
That well dressed elf camoflaged until autumn.
Helping the simpleton nearby when confusion had caught him.
Blowing out troubles and unrealistic fears.
By a sublte whisper noiselessly in his ear.
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