Aussies of androcracy, regarding such mediocrity, present as no slouches—for down-under denizens holding superiority ever share dreamtime pouches. ; )

Father deerest felt they should head towards the glen—where there remained berried bushes available for nibbles again.

Mother deerest felt they should head towards the glade—where fresh flakes would protect them as their tracks would, then, so silently fade.

Baby deerest, as mugwump of the frosted fam, believed choices had led to an unsweetened jam, so rather than giving either option its glam, lead ‘rents towards winter’s last Christmas wonder-WHAM! ; )

Lea’s garden, a sea of senses, where head makes bed in roadstead of flora’s tread, allows aromas to anchor amelioration—readying mind-ship’s set sail for any incoming gale. ; )

For drips, as it seems,

A balefire of beans

Awaits cooling creams.

For sips—to the means,

Each mug to mug cleans

What pointless view deems. ; )

Like strikingly sheened kicks confidently completing relaxed black slacks, her presented kakizome stood for first date’s hopes for future’s tracks. ; )