Swevens mid-day limn possibilities for hours remaining. How will ticks and tocks be faced? Brightly, of course!

Deaths in dreams are resurrected at wake, turning charcoaled cognitions into diamond duhs, leaving ekpyrosis resolved between snooze taps.

Under eyes are dilapidated scenes, but a skip down the periphery are not-so-envious greens ready to plant senses of hope.

Painting the crown red–in accents, of course–may create a calavera of the self, igniting joy for upcoming visages.

Curiosity sqees that the yellow hat was actually sunny light, pointing towards reflection regarding all that is right.

Just a minute. Perhaps, a second. Or more. Vividly optimistic are oneiric horizons of a rosy review. ; )