Pippa’s heal-all for an iracund mood is a huggy lick from her all-heel dude. ; )

Kit-Kat had found that catnip was just no longer worth the trip,

But, on a sill in mum’s bedroom, she quite fancied the spekboom,

Which she was neither supposed to eat or rub on her paw-feet,

So, after a sip of milk, she went to find that kind of ilk.

First, down the roof hot and tin, then up the cliff as dry as gin,

Kitty searched with all her clout up, down, across the sandy mount.

“Meow, this sucks! You lent a ninth life to a coarse course—pawing rife!”

Then, her tail pointed west, so kitty redirected her quest.

There, she found oasis patch, not of clovers, but lucky catch!

She fell into the bed of green, slept day-and-a-half serene.

When she finally did arise? Ate her sheets. Enjoyed more highs.

Appeased in both mind and gut, next steps will learn to plant and cut! ; )

Upon branches, sounds coati’s pitter,

Having ascended through valley’s clitter.

For canopy provides both fruit and shade,

Whereas lea unmasks each attempt to fade.

No worries here re an afternoon fail

With this both focused face and balanced tail. ; )

When it rains grains,

Each duck hopes luck

Will fit the bill.

Up-crushed crackers?

Holy smackers!

Rolled bits of cred?

Gossular bread!

Sesame snacks?

Gratitude quacks!

Swim quick to lick

Fave nosh, by gosh,

‘Fore teal does steal! ; )

Within a dream of place somewhere,

I, milieu’s maiden, bright and fair,

Espy a figure on a mare,

Adorned by blade on fancy wear,

Gent of class with mettle to spare,

Finest of any mousquetaire,

To cross this path of lady’s care,

As her humbled heart’s silenced blare,

Hopes for bonding exchange to share,

Even as shied bright eyes down-stare,

In a moment as true as rare,

That turns bravely from one to pair. ; )