As Lizzy lies twixt stone and its clone, she refuses to let arriving ave write, upon where it hopes to alight, her exequial epitaph—for sanctuary cave, a hole of hope, purposefully precludes obituary page. ; )

Mediterranean mariners play their first monomyths, overcoming whipping waves and belligerent barracudas with the aid of both turtle tutors and buoying boards. Then, returning with only sand infestation in lieu of salvation, pups lie on their day’s deeds—until the sea calls again upon the lair of the lion to lend more pages to ocean’s Odyssean story. ; )

Sans insulation,

Absent Inuit-ion,

Free of fiery pop-crackles,

Bereft of blanket,

Sub-sunned,

Clear of cuddling,

Artful air ignites, for me, inviting incalescence. ; )

Please, both dearest and most dashing dark-winged duck, dehort yourself from envying the gallant, gorgeous goose—for ugliness besmears only those who cannot see the resplendence in their own premier plumage. ; )

Life shutters.

Push.

Open.

Exhale spirit alamort.

Inhale light’s support.

Breathe as breeze,

Until cogitations cool,

And hope flutters. ; )