As Florence waited for her ferriage, she found ferns fancying finely at her feet—and, with that, her feelings floated toward fonder fields even before she was flagged, finally, to flip-flop from seat to fleet. ; )

“Mom, dad, it’s a nom eatery!” cried the fawn, who had just espied an emerald field of herbivorous heaven. Then, what the doe did see, not unlike a tsunameter at sea, elicited a herd heed—toward a place teeming with waves of grain rather than those of rain. ; )

Sat in shock,

Upon a rock,

Hugged by paltock,

Under smock,

Thoughts in lock,

Only tick-tock,

As feelings flock,

From world’s mock,

Until the crock,

Meets its doc,

As a knock,

Out the block. ; )

“Mew must stop tailing me, you thraward shadow-mat, for these paws at pause can still, if needed, scratch their match a la a spat twixt original and copied cat that evokes caboodles of greebles into a kit for pat. ; )

Within the handlist of day’s todos, one task never needs an ink—

For remembering to love and hope for you is ever morning’s waking think.

Set asail to your space of wonders, doubts, needs, and fears,

Unsinkable testaments proffer missing pieces to dry your tears.

Whether regarded as read and revived or relayed to a docking queue,

Captain, shoring up your spirits is what first mates are meant to do. ; )

I love you, Jenny. I love you, Roo. Happy Birthday. ; )