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!