Triple Falls

In the valley under twin horned mountains,
There runs a river through the wooded hills.
And in the woods is a sparkling fountain,
With triple falls, the many pools it fills.

The pools are difficult to find, they say,
Though I my self have seen the furtive falls.
The wisest woodwose might not find the way,
Through myriad paths with flora-bound walls.

Some say Elves will cause the passage to close,
And will wind the way back toward the dells.
They say the way will only welcome those,
With dearest respect to those pristine wells.

In the woods beyond the Little Mountain,
Triple Falls we called the babbling fountain.