For lack of a better aorta...
If only, if only, the woodpecker sighs-
The bark on the tree was as soft as the skies
As the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely
He cries to the moon
If only, if only.
There was once a girl named Sunshine Buttercup. She wanted nothing more than to trot aimlessly and jovially through rosed, sun-dusted parks upon freshly freed grass lawns, basking in the warmth of comfortable, forgiving arms and comfortable, forgiving sun rays.
But she couldn't because her puppy had peed on the carpet and she must therefore stay at home and not only discipline said puppy, but also have all her carpeting redone because she was a clinical obsessive compulsive, and before she had her carpeting redone she had to clean all surfaces of the house so the carpet-redoing people would not judge her for the lack of tidiness in her spotless home, and before she did this she might as well build a fence around her small front yard so that she could leave her puppy there so he did not make a mess of her tidying, and she should probably stop at the grocery store on the way home from the hardware store to pick up not only new wet wipes and puppy treats, but a new recipe book and some ingredients for a fancy dinner she should hold to celebrate the new carpets being put in, but before that she should schedule a day to hold said party and call her friends to make sure that they are available, and probably catch up with them, maybe arrange a coffee date, because Fred and Annie Tulips had just returned from their European trek, and they would probably have much to recount about it, even though the idea of Europe repulsed her for the squat toilets that were simply unsanitary and uncomfortable for someone of her background, and whilst on the subject of toilets she should see whether it was possible for the carpeters to also have a look at the toilet that was acting up again, but before asking she should look up and see if carpeters usually double as plumbers, for if not, she had a real predicament on hand.
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