In step, in hand as antithesis

To Dionysus’ in thiasus

Sets forth towards Greek menu’s venue

For ‘dine only us’, not retinue. ; )

Pippi and Peter kept on towards where they hoped they would find return to home, but—due to both recent dusting and their acknowledged awareness of being colony’s most orientationally-challenged pens—there was a more than decent chance they—no matter where respite was taken, lost or close—would eventually be discovered by others—for, indeed, their wandering was waddling quite lucently, leaving freshly-pressed, uncoated, distinct tracks behind them, stars that would, by wish—and before next flake fall, wrap-up their freeform roam like last words of a cozed tome. ; )

If a chichevache

Upped on chick, apt cache,

They would sic evil’s slay

Via checks—each ward-way. ; )

“Look,” explained Scarlet, “You clearly cannot primp yourself properly.”

“Your style is too square—and not in a hip way.”

“Well,” confessed Claire, “I will never be as prismatic and personable as you.”

“But, maybe you could share some fashion advice? That would be nice.”

“Surely do!” piped Scarlet, “Remember, even is for strange Steven and askew is for you; avoid being a broad zany, but create chic a la unique—like a board’s waney.”

“Let us start with a tilt and, then—you add the lilt.”

“Yes, let us start with a tilt,” parroted Claire, “and I will kilt?”

“Oh, Scarlet, no! I am all for against-the-grain train of my not-so-vain brain, but *plaid*?!?!?! That is too mad!”

“Listen,” comforted Scarlet, “There is no need to fret. Remember what I said about any linear up-get?”

“For now, I will shoulder the flair of Claire myself—literally right here—until you are ready. I will not run away and you will not runway—because birds of a feather make awe by macaw—together.” ; )

Juliet capped her roaring day as a flapper,

Jazzed for her ever with a gent oh-so dapper.

Dance, though, with bride-groom turned into quite a flopper

As rhythm—why sistrum?—flubbed each Lindy-hopper. ; )