On Observer's Trail

When You Lose the PlotSeven Lilliputians left their islandIn arduous search for seven bridesFar and wide, they roamedOver seven seas and countries, sevenAlas found none would have themAfter seven more fruitless yearsLong beards grown snow whiteFeeble minds on boots warn outWhy only leave the islandIn the first placeWorst to come yet callous menHad little ones snared one by oneNext snap-frozen off to marketplaceSold off as garden gnomes.