Faded Houses Green

Charles succumbed to the paraphrastic logic of three weasels and a garrulous ferret where the trees were concerned.

Derogatory sentences are taken to the woodshed and occasionally pandered to in an infinite variety of the parlor judge–plastered summons not withstanding. Pebbles of rattling sapphires and sticky florins of joy jilted the emphasis on luck’s winners at the tipster’s banquet with a fillet of velvet wrapped about Charlene’s wobbly neck–severe in seven graces and thirteen kisses besides. Scandalously eloquent. Burdens of high sparks weaseled the tasty sapphire across Sapphireshire with new editions usurping the company daily.

Honored doilies buried the news of melancholy and pride sought out by Charles and Charlene as far as the eye can see-or at least believe–with dishes overthrown a yard too soon.