By spring, birds have returned to be birds, and trees have returned to be birds.
“Throw your mother off the boat a kiss.”
Forget the night I cried about the roses drunk on bourbon.
I ordered espresso. I thought I was ordering coffee “faster”.
In order to write, one needs a sea of one’s own.
My bird speaks well of you!
“Just do it.”
Okay, for you, but have you got the instructions?
A Room of One’s Own Chocolate
I call this one: Ocean Dew On Lake.
I suggest saving time and actually baking coffee in coffee cake. Rid the world of a misnomer. Would that be so wrong?