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!