Cloaking branches provide sanctuary of security to springly squirrel as yapping nimrods cry at same trees while scratching their fleas.

Sweven after eleven had her desperately deterring drowning by drenched dress, but oneiromancy assured that nuptials in the near future would, indeed, baptise her into a better, more buoyant life.

Tears fell when love’s breloque broke even though it only fell to be found—and hand-clasped walk that arvo met, familiarly, with breaking waves’ wetness followed by comforting brilliance amidst crashings’ sound.

Whether the chiliad is defined by seconds, days, or years matters not as long as the moments are framed by nearness—chilling close to the one who ever endears.

Wrapped in woolen wear, she vaults the freeze as a survivor on course—much like a horse over a cheval-de-fries.