The day had finally arrived to determine the doublure for Penelope’s tome on Quechuan history, but she felt too overwhelmed by the options, so it seemed all to appropriate to send her cria’s ceaseless curiosity to market, where the perfect Peruvian pattern she could find for book’s both literal and figurative bind. ; )

Away from bodega and products proffered by fanega,

Awaiting Vega upon day’s rays’ phase into omega,

Isolated from world of man, mirthful like Pacific Pan,

Imbibing wonders’ seaside plan amid breathed highs of cyan. ; )

Wishing to sail as just a pair—sans family and friends, Peter and Jenny opted for what they deemed an ‘honest’ cryptonym regarding their bonding time; *laundering* would certainly be an activity in which no others would want to share—whilst sea’s spray upon mast’s sheets would leave them setting course true to their word. ; )

Mum and puppers, with empathies embracing both’s vexation,

Ride the return ferry towards vet’s distanced destination

After her barking at isle’s seals for feels of jubilation

Turned into a tear-tiered cacophony of coaxation,

Possibly requiring a script for toads-cool medication—

If not a hello-to-every-huntable hibernation. ; )

For what parts of inner self masked as mild yearn for experiences of the wild?

Peeking towards a tempting space, where innocuous innocence turns about face,

Passing pedology’s whys and writs for musicology’s rousing rise of hits—

As dreams of play with bright ballet bears take nap whilst wonder wanders in darker dares. ; )