Lobby’s shop had always held a minimalistic aesthetic, with a placard of curious prices having been its main decor, but, this morning, an entire wall now drew the eyes toward a vanilla-foamed cat lying like a French girl on a mocha-hued chaise lounge, a placement whose lofty air, perhaps, confirmed not only the intentional absence of decimal points on neighbouring fiscal fixture, but, as well, the purposed presence of a complement to framed feline’s signature—an across written brocard, which, of course, aptly read: Res ipsa loquitur. ; )

Devoted to reflex of familiar routine,

Devout are those who still seek refuges serene.

When straphanger off-steps blocks before and away,

Turning hands from commuter’s clenched to those of pray,

Pewsitter discovers that what is worth a stand

Are enlightened moments sans secular demand. ; )

M’lady from the loch

Presides o’er new block.

Soul’s makar’s dialogue

In-breathes panned sights agog.

Gal of a simple gown

Out-sets for complex town.

Posh in plainest pale pink

Intros with charm and wink.

Guest byes fleeting preview,

Steps now into knew’s new.

Eyes full shower fair bliss

Upon dreams—live, exist. ; )

Among the Highlands, a filibeg provides freedom for both form and flow,

Whereas,

Amidst the high lamps, a filament proffers wisdom by both warmth and glow. ; )

Tomboy’s back

Carrie’s sack

Of tombac

To trade Jack

For a pack

Whose gold knack

Lost the hack

Bric-a-brac. ; )