In consideration of her cock-a-hoop state regarding promotion’s relate, Hannah was not quite sure where to point her thanks, but as someone who had long tried to trade barking up the wrong trees for parking by the supportive ones, upwards seemed an appropriate direction. ; )

She loves me [so starred],

She loves me not [trust marred],

She loves me [her guard],

She loves me not [caynard],

She loves me [bloomed yard],

She loves me not [fails hard],

She loves me [bright bard]! ; )

Mum continuously watched out—and occasionally cried—for her contumacious joey, who ever refused to stay either close or pouched, but as time passed, she realized the little one—arguably too bold—also deftly held with a fiercest hold…and maybe she could finally justify letting go of mistrust in order to hold onto faith. ; )

A tip for the tall: whether as Tippy’s barrad or Tappy’s broad odd, whether amidst neighbouring sneeze or afternoon breeze, stand firmly rooted in homely set, where leans still stand even as they let. ; )

Lucky—even more so having arrived with both intact of emerald hat and satchel galuchat—had found his way to bridge’s end with kettle’s cache ready to be hid, but, then, he pondered, “If, regarding the gold, self continue’s to hold, then I will turn lonely as old. However, if that gold were sold, no return would be equally bold. And, if gold were freely rolled, room rained and bowed would be left in the cold.” So, peering into his pot with a perplexed pout, Lucky finally accepted a date with fate by going the other route: he chose to place neither value nor concern on items laid about, rather cherishing only those entities able to—lifefully, upliftingly, luckily—sprout. ; )