While Sunday’s bad boys doggedly debate merits of team’s squib kick, sunny day’s good boys snifff-ixate time’s most prime petals they will lick. ; )

Both placated penguins and garrulous gulls march for fish of the bucket dish—and while biodiversity favours the bold where neurodiversity tips for the nuanced, in the eventual end, all that matters is that ratio of bill to krill sates the will of each avian friend. ; )

Hand it to the hedgehog—for in their social sphere, there is only one who leads the ball-room: a marvelously mellow marshmallow whose mono monocracy provides all necessary forces of autonomy—security, resourcefulness, defense, production, adaptability, and charm. ; )

Tweetling’s fiery breast, conspicuously lost from ago’s vibrant spring, smarts as flake-fall starts. But, gelid breeze that does numb its feet and pause its song can only frost as fleeting—no match for a feathery flame of hope whose heart burns to survive a season longer. ; )

Penguin’s cousins rest upon the rocks,

Chirper’s chirps drowned by waves’ splashy knocks.

Finding shelter is duet’s next task;

Scene has neither twigs nor up-washed casque.

So, birbies molt all their downy best—

To make cushy an unideal nest. ; )