There are tales of little doors
And of creatures from the moors.
Fairies, leprechauns and trolls
In their hands their tiny bowls.
In dark of night when they do stir
You’ll never see more than a blur.
What’s for dinner? I don’t know.
They are hungry if they show.
Tiny heads and tiny feet
Laugh not if by chance you meet.
Stand so still and let them be.
Never fear what you can’t see.
Open wide that little door
Magic lives and it wants more.
Freedom such a pretty word
Deep within the heart it stirred.
Gently treat the magic folk
They may in you pure joy evoke.
Live together and at peace
And on life a brand new lease.