Poems by Lois

summer’s splendid heat

For our writing today, we looked at an Anglo-Saxon verse… none of us speak it, but we just loved the sound of it, and there was a translation which helped us work out what it meant. Forst sceal freosan, fyr wudu meltan, eorðe growan, is brycgian, wæter helm wegan, wundrum lucan eorðan ciðas. An sceal […]

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Food by Lois

Ginger cake

I love old recipes, handwritten in cookery books;  I have some of my mum’s books with odd things jotted down from her… but this is from someone I don’t know. Maybe it is the mother of a friend, maybe it is a friend of hers… or maybe she bought it in a second-hand shop or […]

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