At arval stood a deer—spirit animal of dearest departed dear—reminding company that what may not seem near could still be found where the heart does hear. ; )

When the weathering world feels both particularly and non-ephemerally icy and cruel,

When self’s pursued paths of passions and hopes sent to aboves are paved rather than saved by what is curule,

Engaging in the embracing of warmthfullness therapy turns into quite the resplendent jewel—

Sparking the most welcomed return of both life and light into parts once way too dark and way too uncool. ; )

Perhaps somewhat ironically, lines she learnedly limned in lucubratory lair of library set a story of soft, shining, snowfallen surroundings—though both milieus shared a silence of loneliness accompanied only by the occasional faintest of scratching or rustling. ; )

By way of sunlighting swevens post braggets,

She arrived in jungle of chirping raquets

Amidst denizens cloaked in leafy jackets—

And a pair of pured love gloves greeting tacits. ; )

Marked by a fanion down the canyon stood a tireless tree whose presence about the bluff was deemed simply not enough, so its neighbour blessed it with favour by sending antidoteless allergens to assailants via purposed puff. ; )