Jack’s juratory jam—undermining ulterior urges—rewarded rabbit rightfully, allowing an amber treat to taste of Osterhase’s ovoids, resurrecting repressed rumination: yearnings yield yums. ; )

Would amelioration result from a walk?

Should I try retro recipe’s opodeldoc?

Why am I holding to umbrella-ing sky’s tears

When face forlorn is already painted with smears?

Will neon’s illuminated glows of the street

Undark my fallen hopes so relentlessly beat?

How are these enveloping aches supposed to heal

If milieu’s bustle and bright elicits no feel?

I think I will just, for the sake of no point, traipse

And let steps’ crosses with fate determine next tapes. ; )

Set in a space of grace, Lily’s pool of thoughts held steady to calm, where even a tummler’s words among waves could not merit a rise—for in her mindful plane, elevation had already entered attainment of joy. ; )

Focused eyes on that which is hid—

Splendor of a perched peacock’s quid?

Or searcher’s scan for a gemmed bid?

Fool-born stares see neither on grid

For points view of mind’s open lid. ; )