Hi I was wondering if anyone can help.
When I was a little girl, and infact still now my fathers pet name for me was "Wudgie". As a little girl I was darker skinned than my siblings and my mother used to recite to me a poem about 'The Puck Wudgies, the brownest of all the brown elves'. Unfortunately my mother has passed away so I can't ask her and I have spent years looking through poetry anthologies and after discovering 'the net' searched many web sites to no avail.
The poem I think starts,
They live in the hedgerows 'neath the bramble and heather,
They ????? come out in all kinds of weather,
?????????????????*
They are the Puck Wudgies the brownest of all the brown elves.

I had a feeling it was by Browning, but I could be confused because one of my other childhood favourites was The Pied Piper.

Any help would be much appreciated.

Thanks

The Puk-Wudjies
They live 'neath the curtain
Of fir woods and heather,
And never take hurt in
The wildest of weather,
But best they love Autumn?she's brown as themselves?
And they are the brownest of all the brown elves;
When loud sings the West Wind,
The bravest and best wind,
And puddles are shining in all the cart ruts,
They turn up the dead leaves,
The russet and red leaves,
Where squirrels have taught them to look out for nuts!
The hedge-cutters hear them
Where berries are glowing,
The scythe circles near them
At time of the mowing,
But most they love woodlands when
Autumn's winds pipe,
And all through the cover the beechnuts are ripe,
And great spikey chestnuts,
The biggest and best nuts,
Blown down in the ditches, fair windfalls lie cast,
And no tree begrudges
The little Puk-Wudjies
A pocket of acorns, a handful of mast!
So should you be roaming
Where branches are sighing,
When up in the gloaming
The moon-wrack is flying,
And hear through the darkness, again and again,
What's neither the wind nor the spatter of rain?
A flutter, a flurry,
A scuffle, a scurry,
A bump like the rabbits' that bump on the ground,
A patter, a bustle
Of small things that rustle,
You'll know the Puk-Wudjies are somewhere around!

by Patrick Reginald Chalmers

found in The Book of a Thousand Poems(ED) MacBain, J. Murray (Peter Bedrick Books 1986)

I seem to have a remarkable talent for Googling, I found it in under a minute

Thankyou so much JohnnyBoy. Maybe if I had spelt 'Puk-wudgies' correctly I might have had more luck, but as I never read it only heard it I supose I assumed it would be spelt like the other Puck.

I shall now learn it by heart and hopefully my grandson, who is milk bootle white eill enjoy it as much as I did. His favourite at the moment, the same as his mothers is 'The Owl and The Pussy Cat'.

Thanks again.

Etty

Glad I could help !