When protensive pose fails to reach success’s skies, up-glam its form by kicking lick whence tumble lies. ; )

Of passed evening, last work on scene was just that of bobeches catching streamed sweat from sticks of candle and, now, through morning’s screen, room’s replete rest has finally arrived—save for sticks of dog being chased through swevens’ fields of go-fetches. ; )

Sophie saw it as so simply black and white:

Only if the crossed path flew her like a kite

Would head spin a turn towards heart’s imbibed light—

Lip-dreaming her rose on coquelicot’s bite. ; )

If the cases suit you only as a pickthank, then expect no amount of thanks from those whom are picked to endure your baggage. ; )

Before swevens,

Starry rise

Enchants eyes

Whilst trunks’ arms

At-bay all harms,

But,

Then,

Afterclap hands

Calm to clam

Via “BAM!”

From eve’s blinds—

Where tears’ fear finds. ; )