The Passing Of The Last Elf
He stood alone in the woods that spring
The year of his return
While the scent of blossoms now filled the breeze
That spoke of life’s renewal.
But in his heart he felt no joy
Like he had so many times before
When springtime came to the woods he loved
Now that his kindred had departed form this shore.
He stood alone in the woods that summer
While he gazed above with wistful eyes
At the strong grey limbs of a tall beech tree
And the leafy green clouds in their prime.
But in his heart he felt no desire
To climb them like he had done in childhood
To look out over the woods he loved
Since his kindred had now departed.
He sat beside the small brook that fall
And wearily watched its sparkling waters
That danced and leapt amongst the rocks
While it hurried on to the western shore.
But in his heart he felt only sadness
And his tears did mingle with its waters
For the flow of this brook was but another reminder
That his kindred had now departed.
He lay alone in the woods that winter
With the cold silence all around him
As the snowflakes softly began to fall
On him and the woods he had loved.
But in his heart he felt only hopelessness
And he sighed before it stopped
For now there was only the beech tree left to mourn
The passing of the last remaining Elf.