Mr Bichi, what are you woinking for?

‘B’ invite you to join me on a journey of discovery,
Into a world where the secrets of soil are revealed,
A place where B holds the key.
Mr Bichi, they called them with awe

Woink, woink

“Magician I, in tarot me stand”
A shape-shifting mirror, baklava to wipe our fears,
A reminder that we are not alone in our tears.
Sipping from calyx cups, elf-ing to those who can’t
Amidst the clearing, we light candles with care.
B flickers, casting shadows unyielding,
A place where grief can’t be transformed

Wooiinnk

A thousand and one nights we spend in awe
As Mr Bichi guides us to what we never saw
The soil beneath our teeth, we chewed with bliss
The magic of beetroot, the beauty it holds,
Dripping juice, smuggled within eyelids.
The Tower XVI, unleashed and B love it!

Woink, wonk and wank

So come, my friends, let us journey together,
As Mr Bichi leads us through this hour.