Long ago and far away

Across a meadow green,

An elf was picking flowers. . .

Once upon a dream.

I watched him very quietly. . .

He was the cutest thing,

And then when everything was still,

He began to sing.

“I am a happy little elf

with lots of work to do,

I make perfume from all the flowers,

Pink, and red, and blue.

I’m such a happy little elf

With secrets I must keep,

For this perfume that I can make

Helps little ones to sleep.

And when its sweetness fills the air

Around their little beds,

I will watch the fairies dance

Above their little heads.”

He must have known I saw him there.

I can’t recall, you see. . .

‘cause I awoke at home in bed,

with mother kissing me.

But that is how I learned his plan

And figured out his scheme,

Long ago and far away. . .

Once upon a dream.

By Priscilla Rose Wyatt