In a cottage of ivy with moss on the dome,

Lived a cheerful, round-bellied, wise little gnome.

We don’t know his name but, a legend, they say

For knowing exactly when to call it a day.

He’d go to the feasts, the birthdays, the balls,

Where laughter rang loud through the candlelit halls.

But while others kept dancing or topping their wine,

He always knew when it was “farewell time.”

This gnome, he believed in a dignified close

Not guests on the lawn laid out in repose.

So he crafted a sign, not snarky or wild,

Just simple and sweet, like the wink of a child.

“TIME TO GO HOME!” it lovingly read,

A subtle reminder, it’s time for bed

And when he held it, folks chuckled with cheer

They stretched, said their thanks, and got out of there.

Now the legend lives on in gnomes just like this,

Who bring gentle closure with whimsical bliss.

So set him out proudly, by the bar or the door,

He’s cute, he’s composed, and he’s never a bore.

For every great party, he knows when it’s done,

And helps you end things before they’re less fun