Sheila's Dribs 'n Drabs

Forsooth, for rind on cheddar well-aged, for purple velvet on brindled page, for royal rage, there is no fool to stage this boundary’s wager

Low, and behold the short-legged frankfurter’s stuffed form under the low and begolden table would bite yer ankles were his eyes not buttons

“How high’s the water?” “Low, and behold the tide’s gonna rise,” said Noah, “so get in the ark and eat Frankfurter. Stuff him first though.”

She dreamed bumblebee stings. He dreamed bumbling wings. She dreamed fear, and he hope. She dreamed loss. He woke her up and shared the cost

It was the dog that did it; dug up the yard; dug up her flowers; dug up the dregs of her heart. He ran back to his guy. She ran to his arms.

The plan was simple; wait ‘til she’s outside; stroll by; and quite by accident catch her eye. Bent over weeding. He caught her by surprise.