Leaving behind the troop,

Ringleader sets on stoop.

Chirps and calls to return—

Oh, they will never learn.

Family is fine for some,

Though zadruga’s quite dumb.

Slave to known tradition

Merits opposition

When you realize the truth

For desire to be couth

Asks those primitive named

To have freedom reclaimed

By trading comfy spots

For lots of unmet gots. ; )

When Tom saw the neon nibbler, he quipped to his date, “Hey, how would you like to stop here for a light snack?”, and followed this by flicking his tongue toward the pussycat in a manner of dubious intent. Tom, a witling all too willing, then walked home a lone, limp noodle. ; )

Deirdre’s obstination had relieved her of spending the afternoon grazing with the herd, so, now, she was free to engage in participation of her most prized pleasantry: introvert’s insular, idyllic imbibation. ; )

If you need a tinchel to enjoy the gifts Mother has to bear,

Your wins are losses by way of play never to be known as fair.

Try surrounding yourself instead—by harmony’s infinite care;

And, see what uplifts when gets are exchanged for haves already there. ; )

Those ducks—quite the quacks, ever trying to gammon us into a round of their fowl play, have finally, in our swan song, been goosed—by being loosed of their best roost thanks to dupe’s boost.. ; )