Saturday morning frost prickles curtains underbelly
Today out of slumber I rose peacefully
Thoughts a carnival of ponderence and winter loathing.
This non-localised-sense births coherence when partnered with rhyme!
Much intrigue in my deductions… Much indeed.
Try not to think of plots in holes. I free myself with this game I holds.
What stifles more other than rhyme marrying grammar? If, of a union, there was none – then words would be so such fun!