Click on images for a larger view

"The more you ask, the slower it go!"
Retorted Mr Bello.
For on matters of time he became most irate,
And would bellow so loud as to make the ground quake.

Now, time it seems is a man made scheme,
For dividing the days the weeks and years,
Yet for faeries living beyond and within,
Clocks are really irrelevant things.

Mr Bello is obviously right,
And time is but mist on a moon lit night,
Seeping through hollows in far away glades,
Where the Wee folk still gather, dance and play.

It's there you'll hear him above the din,
Bellowing, screaming in thunder, in wind,
Shouting at humans for all he's worth ...

"Time is naught, but a human curse".