Painting these waves

That mirror

Horizon’s range

Of mounts

And,

As well,

Palette’s

Scrapes

Of grumous hue

Will raise

A thrilled

Breath

Before awe

Falls

Into

Humbled,

Hopeful

Hellos

To goodbyes. ; )

As storm thuttered into its retreat, repose returned to refilled lake, where swan’s serenity glided seamlessly into scene’s first notes of a mellower movement. ; )

Olivia arched her back in a gesture of both happiness and thanks

As she parted waves with mariners who had kindly freed her spiracle

From the synthetic, not-recycled sin that had stoppled her breathing tanks—

All this via rescue that arrived as both granted wish and miracle. ; )

Oh, everyone believes matchmaking is their wheelhouse—that they know when two hearts are meant to be drawn together, but harmonies, like tides, ebb and go—leaving forever for those who endure through heats and pressures before sharing their design with one who mirrors their glow. ; )

“I’ll pack and not arouse any drama, quotha!” sighed the farmer’s wife, who no longer had guest quarters to which she could send him as it was, now, apparently, a place replete with alpaca—a house!—and llama. ; )