Sat in shock,

Upon a rock,

Hugged by paltock,

Under smock,

Thoughts in lock,

Only tick-tock,

As feelings flock,

From world’s mock,

Until the crock,

Meets its doc,

As a knock,

Out the block. ; )

“Mew must stop tailing me, you thraward shadow-mat, for these paws at pause can still, if needed, scratch their match a la a spat twixt original and copied cat that evokes caboodles of greebles into a kit for pat. ; )

Within the handlist of day’s todos, one task never needs an ink—

For remembering to love and hope for you is ever morning’s waking think.

Set asail to your space of wonders, doubts, needs, and fears,

Unsinkable testaments proffer missing pieces to dry your tears.

Whether regarded as read and revived or relayed to a docking queue,

Captain, shoring up your spirits is what first mates are meant to do. ; )

I love you, Jenny. I love you, Roo. Happy Birthday. ; )

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. ; )