Designed and written by ourselves
Come sit awhile under my shade in a quiet corner of the churchyard. Breathe deeply the aroma of
my sweet fermenting berries; relax as wood nymphs and faeries dance on the edge of your
vision, as your thoughts mingle with your dreams.
Take my bark, my wood, my leaves or my berries, make medicine or poison; your choice.
But save my trunk for the master bowyer; for when the King calls, the longbow is all that will stand
between you and ruin.
The Bewitching Yew
