Bubbles dream to leave the line

Of aerated wet,

Hoping for purpose

Beyond serving phalanxes

Of Poseidon.

Stories from beyond the waves

Tell of the charm

Of dittany,

A companion in search

Of both rays and drink.

Whilst splashes charge the bounds

Of Crete’s castle,

Only time will tell

If sea’s swevens

Will be drawn up into love. ; )

Shadowed shore, hidden by sea’s pressing waves, forthcomes as a frisket, presenting, upon retreat of sea, a framed masterpiece of treasured hues and styled designs—a fleeting field of finest art awed by the eyes, held in the heart. ; )

Certainly, this traipse for a splendid view merits a “whoo”—times two. Just a hop, skip, and jump down the road, quotha! Hope the return trip provides for need upon a steed. ; )

Gull can eye, soar higher.

Vulcanize for a tire.

Yolk on ice abhorred: ire.

Folk? Oh, nice! You are hired!

Pull kin, aye, sure, flier. ; )

The king cried foul: “Why has my dapifer, that quack, brought me tofu a l’orange?”

The steward did hide the fowl: “Waving webbies do fit the bill unless you want to wing it with the clippers and nippers.”

The duck opted to abide the fool: “Main courses, even those swam less, are Frosty splashes declined due to distress.” ; )