Pop art art on fire

Pop art art on firePop art another lazy afternoonPop art trane in blue
chimed together now in Magrat’s head.
Up the airy mountain, down the rushy glen. ..
From ghosties and bogles and long-leggity beasties...
My mother said I never should...
We dare not go a-hunting, for fear...
And things thatclever as them, as light as them; we are animals.
Chilly wind soughed in the forest beyond the town. It had always been a pleasant forest to walk in at nights but now, she knew, it would not be so again. The trees would have eyes. There would be distant laughter in the wind.
What they take is everything.
Magrat spurred the horse into a walk. Somewhere in the town a door slammed shut. go bump ...Play with the fairies in the wood...Magrat sat on the horse she didn’t trust and gripped the sword she didn’t know how to use while the ciphers crept out of memory and climbed into a shape.They steal cattle and babies...They steal milk...They love music, and steal away musicians...In fact they steal everything.235Terry PratchettWe’ll never be as free as them, as beautiful as them, as