A carnival of sluice gates lifted the wandering whiffle along the river Wye.
Why? Because the nature of the ping is to pong like the first crack at the last laugh. Laughter is really only the second-best medicine, Sophie had known that from the beginning of time, but time hadn’t begun when Sophie found the fountain of the knowledge of youth and Medieval tidings of mediocre joy. Joy, on the other hand, went to Sophie’s house a little too late for the great weight of waiting to do any of them any good anyhow. Joy thought about it for a moment, but then shrugged it off–shrugs being in fact the first-best medicine, but then again, Joy was two years older than Sophie, and that put her two years closer to the beginning of time.
Whiffles found Joy in a rapturous mood because her sluice gate had come in third while the carnival had shut down for the season of Sophie’s disbelief.
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Poetry like no other (except a poet)
Like time forgot. Then remembered. Or thought it remembered but in fact misremembered. But how would it know?
That’s why the military invented dream sharing
If conception -> conceive, does inception -> inceive?
You is a Genius
Maybe you meant Genus.
Linnaeus chuckles
So does Lucy.
Looking forward to The Great Turkey
With plenty of Snoopy Dogg.