The tree grows on the Isle of Sorrows
Limbs black as starless night
Apples red as rubies.
Bitter flesh white as the sun.
Black seeds glinting obsidian tears.
A beautiful poison.
First of all I never ever said I was a poet if you are grumbling about my waxing un-lyrical but these words kept swirling around in my head so I wrote them. I'm really please with the embroidery, I know its only small but its the perfect representation of my little poison apple tree, I love the curling swirling limbs, she has no leaves because she is poison, and bears only deadly fruit.
We move next week, next Tuesday in fact, so I need to go get packing and organizing. When I have longer I will blog the fantastic goodies I received for the russian doll swap with Anna, as the pictures I tried to take look rubbish laid out on bubble wrap. Bact to packing boxes for me.