(photographed by me Channon market)
This poem and its subject contains a particular resonance
for me. Not only because it was about my first ride on a Clydesdale drawn horse
and cart, but because of the true and powerful nature of the market and its
effects on my dreaming childhood. For a market truly is a thing of collective
beauty, of song and rich organic essence, a market is where empowered muse is
en-skilled and crafted, where fresh gardens spring and overflow, where old
friends and long journeys always meet again and new ones dance with spiritual
abandon...
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