
Cooped for an unnatural duration carries with it a consequence: a febrile urge to escape.
With boots laced taut and fleece zipped high and rendezvous set for three pip emma, go is already set.
Both bed of rocks and company’s badinage soothes; the pain of solitude dissipates with each relieved breath.
Bonnyclabber for a bonny lass by the speckled sea? Let the chickens eat their soup in front of cartoon shows.
Ills of chills will take their tabs and balms, but oft the truer cure is coursed from Mother Nature’s calms. ; )
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