Miller Fabled

Abrasive pillars. A millers grin. 1700 loaves of bread. In a straight line though please. Now thankyou that will do nicely. It is often incredible to think that from sacks in cellars arrive many an edible creation. How clever. And how rather talented. Frantic flour whirring whilst whistling at 4 a m in a morning crust. In a sharp cool air of dark winter. The glows of great wide mouthed ovens provide much warmth and comfort. Pleasant and simple. No plastic shroud. Elegant and natural. Formations of this time. Whilst apples are shot for pleasure from delicate heads in an orchard. And seventeen maidens dance in spectacular colours at the lodges of the villagers seasonal cues. Heaping. Hearts. Hearths. Heard. Herds. Have. Havens. Xxxx 1 v q *** existential difference xx