“Oy, sir! Your cast are vanishing with the breeze, eloping past the realm of squirrels.”

“Will they congregate in a rainy gulch?”

“Or, will they merry in a grainy culch?”

“Pearls of wisdom suggest that unholding loves lost frees—up hope, an olive-juiced oyster.” ; )

Claude’s cold case, collective charts concerning creature’s craniometry, concluded Chondrichthyes connections, contradicting cetaceous classification. ; )

After an afternoon of wrestling with the ideas of either napping away the day or lapping up nature’s nourishment, the final call actually ended up being the dog-fall—that benched the debate by way of a rurally recumbent state. ; )

Pippa’s heal-all for an iracund mood is a huggy lick from her all-heel dude. ; )

Kit-Kat had found that catnip was just no longer worth the trip,

But, on a sill in mum’s bedroom, she quite fancied the spekboom,

Which she was neither supposed to eat or rub on her paw-feet,

So, after a sip of milk, she went to find that kind of ilk.

First, down the roof hot and tin, then up the cliff as dry as gin,

Kitty searched with all her clout up, down, across the sandy mount.

“Meow, this sucks! You lent a ninth life to a coarse course—pawing rife!”

Then, her tail pointed west, so kitty redirected her quest.

There, she found oasis patch, not of clovers, but lucky catch!

She fell into the bed of green, slept day-and-a-half serene.

When she finally did arise? Ate her sheets. Enjoyed more highs.

Appeased in both mind and gut, next steps will learn to plant and cut! ; )