celebrating the extraordinary in the ordinary - the official small stone e-zine
Reminds me of a poem my mother loved, The Seed Shop by Muriel Stuart. the last line: 'And in my hand a forest lies asleep.'just lovely, thank you.
I think of my garden sleeping in the winter, too. I like this.
I like the idea of 'seeds sleeping' - I wonder what they dream of, sun perhaps?
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