My friend Janine, fellow Transition worker and fellow blogger, has written a gripping poem. It haunts till the end. This is the beginning:

                                          I dreamt a sword fight broke out in the cornfield
                                          I was dodging poison arrows in the brassica
                                          tripping over minefields in the brussel sprouts which
                                          when stripped of their leaves
                                          look like tiny holiday trees lined up
                                          like an enchanted forest
                                          but then what enchantment doesn’t conceal
                                          the poison apple
                                          or the rings of power?

 

Visit her post to read the rest. You will not be sorry!

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