“Oh, dear, dear, dear!” thinks this deer, for eyes surmise that the surprise inside that cornucopia could be salt licks of dimensions bite-size.
“Oh, no, no, no!” sighs this fawn, for cocozelles inside cornucopia leads this muzzle to yawn.
“Oh, yes, yes, yes!” sings this doe, for petting these spots reverses effects of season’s energy vampires, ameliorating woe, does not one know?
“Oh, deer, deer, deer!” calls this thanksgiver, when asked who wants the cubed salt stowed, instead, inside *pockets*. “I will, please, have a sliver!” ; )