When full moon rises, hear the call,
Eldritch and eerie through the black,
“Return, return to pelt and paw,
Each come, and all, to wolf-shape back!”
Woe to the traveller late abroad
On high road wide or forest track;
Long jaws, sharp teeth will pull him down.
Full moon brings out the werewolf pack.
Elizabeth is a denizen of the Laurentian foothills in rural northern Ontario. The year she didn’t own a dog, she chased a bear away from her kitchen door. She knows how to build a fire and keep it going for months, how to tan a hide using the animal’s brains, and how to take a sheep and turn it into clothing and dinner.
She loves good coffee, dark chocolate, reading, writing and art. She’s been, at various times, a printmaker and potter as well as a painter. Currently her arts of choice are watercolour, paper engineering, and hand bookbinding, in addition to writing poetry and fiction. She loves a good parody and find nursery rhymes particularly apt for that form.