A flicker of light touches the candle by the bookcase
A tiny pair of patter feet is heard on the table
The elves are amoung us tonight...
Mischieve is just a way of entertainement
As a little pen is brought out
And words are aded to the script
Of hopes and dreams this storie is made up.
A candle light slowly dies as the morning light apears
The elves are amiss
The storie almost finished
The door id open in the studio as the writer enters.