7 December 2012
There are no mushroom circles where I reside No faries skip and dance inside But out on the fells cloaked in heather and scree as rucked and battered as the hills is an old oak tree.
It works its ancient magic endures through season change knotted bows secrets enfold and there is nothing quite as strange as the knowledge there to be told.
A wisened crone that has seen all that man ever knew and all that is yet to be. and on that tree among the heather, you'll find our names written together
Fairy Tree • Opuss № I