Flawless Victory!

The fruited patches of silk-weed,
sighing-willowy flux,
housed unseen, gleeful gnome-folk!
who were busy with all sorts of gnomish construction.

Along came then, the trampling feet
in stead-fast hurried gait,
of the reckless, carefree nature of a child.

The gnomes, without a moment's hesitation,
adhered to their wooded 'domain parameters'.
Stuck against the walls of weed,
and sewn into the likeness of miniature rock,
and cooled by the parapet of mushroom gills,

Masters, never injured by humankind;
Another Flawless Victory!