#flocked hair ken

[orionsangel86]

Watching The Sandman again for the hundreth time and I know everyone always loves to focus on Dreamling, but can we talk about Rose Walker for a moment?

The Sandman is often applauded (and complained about) for being an extremely gay show, but I particularly love how even the characters who aren’t canonically gay come across as extremely gay.

Take Rose Walker. The main character of The Doll’s House story. Neither the show nor the comics ever give Rose a sexuality, but there are some very glaring factors that heavily support her being queer.

The first time we see Rose is in episode 5 24/7. Judy, the lesbian at the diner who has had a fight with her girlfriend Donna, calls Rose and asks if Rose knows where Donna is. We know that Rose considers both Judy and Donna close friends and has a picture of Judy in her apartment.

Rose’s only other friend that we know of besides Lyta Hall (who she got to know via proximity since they were neighbours) is her friend Carl who she clearly is close enough with to let him house sit for her (even though he has sex with The Corinthian on her bed!).

So her closest friends are a lesbian couple and a gay man. I know I know straight people can be friends with queer people but statistically speaking queers flock together. Its more likely that Lyta is the token straight in the friend group than Rose AND Lyta both being straight.

I also question her choice of seeking out accomodation in Cape Kennedy. Isn’t it interesting how she ends up in a very strange B&B also managed by a gay drag artist and filled with colourful characters including Chantal and Zelda (I know their relationship is supposed to remain ambiguous but imo the show also leans more into them being lesbians due to Chantal’s dream where she calls them “soul sisters” and “gothic brides” and I dunno I just think the fact she refers to them as brides is pretty telling!)

Of all your accomodation choices in Florida, this in particular seems like the kind of place one would go to if they were specifically looking for somewhere advertised as “LGBT friendly”. All the characters staying at the B&B are either canonically queer or heavily queer coded.

Gilbert/Fiddlers Green isn’t technically human, but his whole aura is distinguished older gay man - he’s played by Stephen Fry after all!

Also I could go on about Barbie (who I theorise found the accomodation for her and Ken) but without revealing any comic spoilers, she also later surrounds herself with basically all queer people. I know in the comics she is strictly heterosexual, but nah she dreams like a queer theatre kid on speed or something lmao. That girl is a bisexual disaster all the way and yeah I may be projecting on her as a fellow blonde overly dramatic dreamer and disaster bisexual but I claim her for my own okay just let me have this.

So yeah, the queer friendship groups, the specific seeking out of an LGBTQ friendly b&b in Florida, and the fact that she literally wears rainbows in her hair and I think its clear enough that that girl is a baby queer if ever I saw one.

Due to the merging of Rose and Lyta’s stories in the Netflix show, we should actually get to see more of Rose in future seasons. In the comics, after the Dolls House book, she doesn’t appear again (unless she turns up in the Wake since I haven’t read that far ahead), but by making her Lyta’s companion in the show, we know she will appear again since Lyta and the baby (Daniel not that he has been named yet in the show) are reoccuring characters throughout the entire Sandman comic run.

Maybe I just crave more lesbian and bisexual women rep in my fave shows, but sitting here watching this show again it just tickles me that in the entirety of season 1, it is so easy to view practically every major female or female presenting character as queer. Joanna Constantine and Rachel, Judy and Bette, Lucifer and Mazikeen (bring on the make out scene in season 2!), Chantal and Zelda, and in my opinion, Rose Walker, Barbie, Lucienne, and Gault are all queer coded WLW.

(Lucienne and Gault is just a ship I love okay but you can’t deny there was some flirting in episode 10!)

It’s been such a crappy year for lesbian rep with lesbian shows getting cancelled left right and centre. I just think lesbians should therefore claim the Sandman as theirs. if nothing else, claim it out of spite. It’s a fantasy show with a pathetic wet cat emo boy as a main character who literally surrounds himself with lesbians, is probably in love with his best friend, and considers a slutty gay serial killer with teeth for eyes his greatest ever creation. It just seems to me like the kind of show that should appeal heavily to WLW okay! Plus there are more lesbians coming in season 2! Encourage your lesbian and bisexual friends to go watch The Sandman now!

[bugstung]

Hi I am so so obsessed with your monster road trip au do you have any random information about it that you wish to talk about (<- going a little insane /pos)

ALRIGHT

Harpies live in flock (murder?) and preen each others and can't preen themselves well. Akito finds Toya in a miserable state with his feathers all ruffled, and once Toya starts to trust Akito he lets Akito (try) to preen him.

Akito does a lot of researches on preening because he's scared to fuck it up.

Toya also eventually let An and Kohane preen him. In return Toya brushes their hair and does cranial massage (An teaches him how to braid hair as well)

The WxS circus troupe runs on cartoon logic. The entire plot revolves around vbs finding them, but the moment Akito meets them he wants to get away from them.

Akito An and Kohane tried to help Toya to learn how to fly but. he's scared of height. So he doesn't actually learn how to fly. (though his instinct would probably kick in if he has to defend vbs)

At the end Toya learns how to shapeshift. While he does shift back into a human, he does often shift into his harpy form, especially to sleep / nest. He never loses his bird habits.

I'm still wondering if the van they use is An's (they are a bit older in this au), or Ken's and they're constantly scared that it get scratches. Ken would face time An to see if his van is okay (but mostly to get news of An) and you see Kohane and Akito in the background trying to hide Toya huge wings.

Toya loses his speech quite soon in his transformation, and he uses a mix of sign language that they made up and text messages. He has awful hand coordinations though.

He does regain speech while he confronts his father, but his voice is quite distorted.

[my-plastic-life]

Behind the Scenes: Olivier Mira Armstrong

WARNING: VERY LONG POST AHEAD!

This was definitely a journey for me! This project was completely new territory for me because A) this is a character/series I’m not familiar with, and B) I’d be attempting a FULL reroot all by myself. I’d wanted to practice, and my friend and I both decided it would be a good opportunity to do so. If I failed, I did have a rerooter friend who I knew could fix my mistakes.

But the first step was making sure the outfits could be made. Without them, this entire project would be in vain. I’d need an outfit for both dolls, though Alex will be posed wearing only his pants with his shirt and jacket suspended in the air like in this scene:

So anyway, that was the first step. I contacted my favorite seamstress, Elenpriv, and asked if this was something she could do. The doll I’d planned to use was a Made to Move petite Barbie, and the guy has slightly different measurements than a traditional Ken, but since the pants were all that really mattered, it should be okay. Anyway, Elenpriv said the outfits were totally doable!!! YES!

So the next step was finding the doll to use. I knew what body I wanted - the petite Made to Move Barbie because Olivier is pretty short compared to her brother. My friend informed me that Olivier’s typical face is a “resting bitch face” LOL. Unlike my Inuyasha dolls, this series of characters has noses and mouths that are more pronounced than just lines. That actually made finding a candidate easier.

Out of total coincidence, the doll I ended up using had the petite Made to Move body AND the perfect face! She wasn’t smiling and had short hair that could easily be removed for a reroot:

For the record, I’m not a fan of the flocked doll hair. LOL Anyway, that’s beside the point. Her face sculpt looked perfect, so I knew we had our candidate! And the outfits were a go!

So next up was choosing the proper hair color. I got my hair and the rerooting kit (I’d had some in the past but I got more just in case lol) from TheDollPlanetHair on Etsy. My friend helped me choose the color, and we went with Lemon Blonde. Or was it Lemon Drop? I got both because screens make it hard to tell colors, but in person they look almost identical LOL.

So then I got to work! I’ll spare the details of the rerooting process, except for the fact that, this being my first time doing it, it was certainly a learning curve. I’d watched several videos of people doing reroots, and no one ever plugged every single factory-made hole. So I didn’t, either. I also had to make my own holes (glad I had that extra tool to help with that!) because the flocked areas didn’t have any underneath.

Well, I got that part done, and after the boil wash, it looked way too thin. And because I was afraid the hair could come out during that boil wash, I’d already glued it inside the head. So then I had to go back and add more hair because there were totally bald spots. I did that about two more times in total before (and yes, I added glue inside each time prior to a boil wash) before I was satisfied with the thickness. I was worried it would look completely uneven, but fortunately it seemed to be okay!

Once that was done, I pulled the hair back into a ponytail so I could begin working on the face. I didn’t want to do the face first only to realize I majorly messed up the reroot lol. For the face, the only thing that needed altered was the eyes. I wanted to just paint over the original factory paint, but the eyes were too small for that. Anime eyes, you know? I also wanted to try to use watercolor pencils like I’ve seen so many customizers do. I bought some Mr. Super Clear, a protective breathing mask, and Prismatic watercolor pencils. I started with a practice doll to make sure I knew what I was doing. I sprayed her face with the MSC, then began using the pencils... and the colors just didn’t shine through. At least, not over the original factory paint. I didn’t want to remove that because I can’t draw to save my life. I need a base to trace over. But alas, it wasn’t working. I’m guessing because I didn’t use acetone to remove the original factory paint, which everyone else does prior to spraying the MSC. But no way was I going to take off the original factory paint and start from scratch. So I used my Miroku method and just extended the eyes how they needed to be. I did discover that the watercolor pencils will draw over the top of acrylic paint, so that helped. I had more control with them than a paint brush. I was also able to use a regular pencil for light drawing that I could go over later with paint.

This took some time, and of course there are two eyes, and it never failed - they would never look even lol. Something was always wacky in at least one of them, and I, being a perfectionist with a hint of OCD, was going nuts. But then I remembered that one eye is always covered. So if it’s a little off, it won’t matter too much. Hopefully. So I did the best I could, getting the shapes to match as closely as possible, adding in the two different shades of blue to the iris, then that tiny black dot in the middle and the white light dot, eyelashes, and the unique eyebrows, and I was finally satisfied enough to begin the next step.

That next step was cutting and styling the hair. Olivier has a relatively simple hairstyle. It kind of ends in a curled point, and there is one batch that’s always covering her right eye and draped across her chest. There is an even smaller strand next to her left eye ending at pretty much the same length as the batch. So I sprayed the hair and got it completely soaked, then took my curling iron to the back side to give it a little curl, then curled the batch and strand just a little bit. I think it works!

Once that was finished, it was time for the tops of the boots. I used the same Barbie boots I used for Sango and painted them black, but Olivier’s boots have tongues on the tops of them.

I had the outfits already at this point, and I’d already put Olivier’s on her so I could make sure everything fit okay. Of course, it was perfect! And the details are absolutely incredible. Elenpriv is truly the best!!! Just look at this detail!

The gold rope, the stars on the shoulder pads, the buttons - everything is there, and perfect!!! Her services are worth every penny!

Back to the boots. I’m a fan of nothing being permanent with doll stuff in case A) I change my mind later and B) a better method comes along later so I can easily modify an already existing design. So, remembering how I made Sango’s armor completely out of cardstock, bias tape, and paint, I used that trusty method once again. I sketched out a design on black cardstock, cut and glued a few layers together, then covered them with bias tape and painted the whole thing black. I left a little triangular shaped wedge at the bottom to slide in between the boot and the pant legs. Not perfect, but no way am I gluing anything to that uniform!!!

After that came the medals! I forgot to even mention them to Elenpriv, so that was on me. But I had some ideas on how I could pull them off. My first thought was to attempt to use my new Cricut I’d gotten for Christmas to do it, but I didn’t even know where to begin. And I wanted to make sure to have this project done because in a week or two I’d be dropping it off to my friend’s neighbor, who was staying at her second home in Kansas temporarily, and she would take it back to her. So I took some measurements of the area the medals would go based on this picture:

That’s also a nice picture with a straight-forward view of the medals. So I made them in a few different sizes in Photoshop, printed them out, and then held them against the doll to determine the best candidate. After choosing one, I literally measured every centimeter tick of each piece of those medals I’d printed, determining the length/height/width of each individual color, plus the coin part. I sketched the design out on bias tape, and then I used acrylic paint to bring the colors to life.

Why didn’t I just use what I’d printed? Because A) it was on cardstock, so the details weren’t nearly as sharp, and B) if I’d used photo paper, the entire thing would be way too shiny/unrealistic. So this had to be done by hand.

For the coins, I immediately thought of a hole punch. At least that way I’d get perfect circles! So I took my gold paint and covered a spare area of cardstock in it, then used two different hole punch sizes to create the medals (yes, one is bigger than the other). To add thickness, I stacked and glued two of each size together, then painted the edges gold since that part was white after cutting them out. Then I used a pencil to sketch out the cross design, then lightly went over it with black paint. I love my tiny paint brushes!!!

To attach them to the ribbons, I glued a mini strip to the back of them, then glued that to the back of the cardstock behind the ribbons. I felt that would be easier than trying to glue those tiny edges of the coins and ribbons together. I’m really proud of how these medals turned out.

To attach them to the uniform, I just used some double-sided tape. Because, again, NO glue on that uniform!!!

And with that, the doll was DONE! It was definitely quite a process, especially since I’m not familiar with this show or character, but I’m pleased with how it all turned out! My friend informed me not to share this until after the intended recipient had the dolls in her possession, and now she does. And she approves! YES!!!

[noakun]

Hi :) Your art is very cool, specially the colors

I was wondering if you could write some headcanons about Team Rocket Elite Trio, they're pretty underrated

Thanks ^^

Hello!! Thank you so much for the ask, I'll be more than glad to write something for them :> In terms of general headcanons:

Ken

Ken could best be described as a responsible and caring older brother figure to everyone in Team Rocket, even though he can be aggressive and strict from time to time in order to maintain discipline and keep missions in motion.

Despite his size and looks, he's respectful, considerate and really pleasant to talk to.

Can be kind when handling others' mistakes, unless he's faced with an uncooperative individual or is under a lot of pressure (which is more often than not exerted by Lt. Surge).

Speaking of Lt. Surge, as merciless and evil as the man is, one of Ken's biggest wishes is to receive his validation for being a good member of the team (and trying his best!). That, unfortunately, rarely happens.

Alongside Al and Harry, he deems Team Rocket his family, a community he belongs in, one he should protect and support in any way possible, no matter what he has to do in order to achieve that goal.

Desperately searching for a father figure after the early loss of his own.

Jokingly started calling Giovanni "dad" when talking to Al and Harry. (It's barely a joke anymore. Also, the nickname is now used by the other two as well.)

Really likes Pokémon!

His everyday outfit consists of a flannel, cargo pants and comfortable footwear. He has a LOT of flannels.

Coffee addict.

Al

Al is short. Short-tempered as well, actually. Nobody makes a big deal out of his height other than himself.

He's quick to speak his mind, and will make sure you know how irritated and disgruntled he is at the smallest of things that bother him, making him talk a lot.

On the flip side, he's honest about things he enjoys and admires about others too. If he likes what you're wearing or how you look on a particular day for example, he'll be the first to tell you and shower you with compliments and ideas on how to improve an aspect even further.

He rarely takes off his hat, and even when he does, he's simply fixing his hair before putting it back on. Very insecure about his appearance.

Rational and logical about other things and is a great problem solver, so people flock to him with questions and personal issues. He gets annoyed with it more often than not, but he'll help out regardless.

Has a bad habit of biting his nails, especially when he's been bottling up stress.

Surprisingly, he doesn't have a lot of close friends despite being social, so he sticks to Ken and Harry.

Has a thing for fashion and owns many pieces of clothing. A lot of them are hats and colorful shirts.

Likes playing cards and other luck based games.

Harry

Harry is the Popular™ one, and you'll most likely find him on some kind of party when he's off duty.

Made a group chat with Ken and Al so he could spam them with memes and hourly life updates. Al replies to everything individually and has a lot to say, while Ken keeps the messages short and brief ("lmao", "so true", etc.)

A big flirt, has had a lot of romantic partners in the past, but got heartbroken every single time (that doesn't stop him from pursuing The One™ in the future).

Agile and fast, has been training a lot, enhancing his stamina, and is able to outrun most of Team Rocket.

He's hyperfixated on Hatsune Miku and likes other anime-styled media. If you ask him about it, he won't shut up for hours. Owns a lot of (stolen) merch. His favorite Miku song is "World is Mine".

Self-confident. Doesn't think before he speaks and doesn't check messages for errors before sending them, leading to some hilarious typos that Ken and Al have been quoting for years. Unironically uses ":3" and variations.

He's the least likely of the three to physically hurt you. Can throw a verbal tantrum though and cause unnecessary drama.

Seemingly irresponsible, but when he puts his mind to something, he'll see it through.

Good at keeping promises.

But gossips a lot.

[snarkspawn]

hey, I was wondering whether you'd be interested in spreading the KenBig agenda further, by sharing some headcanons for them or something? No worries if not, I just thought I'd ask because I am interested™.

Yes hello I am in fact always Very interested in spreading the KenBig agenda, thank you for enabling me :DDD 

Most of these headcanons form the backdrop for @pharawee and my Post Ep 10 Fix-it AU which means I’ve been bouncing things off them and vice versa, but since I’m writing Big in the rp I might be seeing everything through Big tinted glasses a bit haha sorry!

So it’s not mentioned in the show obviously but to me it’s pretty much a given that they’re roommates (oh my God etc etc) because honestly, who tf else would ever want to room with either of them?? They’re terrible. Definitely the Mean Girls among the bodyguards which is probably why they flocked together in the first place

Nodt and Perth both said that Big and Ken are very close and share similar characteristics, which I guess makes sense since Ken doesn’t exist in the novel but sort of fills in part of the role that Big had there? Being the mole/traitor, specifically (and also taking over a few traits that come with it, like a casual cruel streak that I don't think show!Big has, or at least not to that extent). So they understand each other in a way that others probably don't. They’d be two sides of a fucked up coin if one side was Cruel (Ken) and the other Pathetic (Big) lmao

But with them being so close I think Ken would've been the person for Big to confide in. Which he would've done a lot. No one can be that deep into an unrequited crush and not cry on someone’s shoulder about it, especially not once Porsche hurricaned into their lives and messed everything up even further. He even riled Ken up so I like to think there would have been a lot of frustration venting on both sides 

Also, when Big had his arm in the sling and would've needed help with the most basic tasks Ken definitely helped him dress, wash his hair and made sure that damn ponytail was done up perfectly, and no one can convince me otherwise

I imagine it must have been torture for Ken, having to listen to all that whining about Kinn this and Kinn that for years, all the while thinking what kind of idiot Kinn has to be for not noticing Big (like, I mean, have you seen him??). I'm sure he had no qualms about ratting out the Main Family in the first place but the fact that he thought it'd come back to bite Kinn in the arse was probably the icing on the cake for Ken (♫ a little jealousy~)

[theguythatcollectsdolls]

Recreation of the Friday Nite Date set

Silkstone Titian Barbie

Silkstone flocked hair Ken

Both are wearing reproduction fashions and accessories

[humanrinds]

50th anniversary ken came too and i think i’m going to leave the suit on him bc it was a pain in the ass to put on

the 60th anniversary edition was a lot cheaper than this one but i prefer brunette ken and this one has flocked hair instead of moulded plastic

[natalunasans]

ever since fourteen was announced i have been contemplating a custom doll; finally have something to show. the recent looks ken doesn’t really look like @ncutigatwa but there were enough close-ish facial features that i could work with. apologies for the awkward flocking; my hair skills are nonexistent. but at least now i have a doll to imagine future seasons with, until @bigchiefstudios makes their inevitable --and eagerly awaited-- 14th doctor figure! . rebel (timelord) tshirt by @frau_e_for_dolls_ on etsy . . . #doctorwho #doctorwhofanart #fourteenthdoctor #14thdoctor #ncutigatwa #doctorwhofigures #doctorwhodolls #drwho #doctorwhofandom https://www.instagram.com/p/CeHZRxdpfOb/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[otps-in-plastic]

tags

Barbie - anything and everything Barbie

Silkstone - Silkstone Barbies

Barbie the Movie - anything related to Barbie (2023)

Ken - mostly just Ken dolls

Allan - blorbo from the 60s

DIY/Customizing related stuff:

Encouragement

Custom - other people’s (really cool!) custom dolls

Tutorial - repaint, modding, fashion etc

Sewing - sewing patterns and/or instructions

Supplier - a store or resource for dolls parts, hair, flock powder etc. also words of warning about scammers and crazies.

Reference posts:

Reference - links to sites to id dolls, skin tone comparisons, doll comparisons

Facemolds - comparing and id-ing facemolds

Skin tone reference - comparing and id-ing skin tones

Articulation reference - heads and bodies that match across toy lines

Minis - miniatures, mostly 1/6 scale

Plus sized dolls - non skinny fashion dolls and 1/6 scale action figures

Baby masterpost - pregnant dolls and baby dolls

Non barbie - any doll that’s not barbie

1/6 noggins - custom molded heads

Disney - any Disney doll

Sindy - Sindy dolls

Fresh Dolls - Fresh Dolls / Fresh Squad Dolls

Fashion Royalty

Poppy Parker

Candi Girl

Fun stuff:

Doll Meme - silly relatable doll and miniature posts

Most Popular Girls in School

Barbie Life in the Dreamhouse

Famous folks with their mini selves - celebrities with their dolls and action figures

Fan art - drawings of Barbie, etc

Me Stuff:

Wishlist - my wishlists

Personal references for my projects:

Paper doll - paper dolls for my own personal reference

Doctor Who

Harley Quinn

Peggy Carter

Wonder Woman

[auntymatter]

8/31/2022

All Systems Ken

Dr. Ayda Mensah in her twenties and in her forties.

Ready to by Admin Director/Survey Team Leader

I removed all of the hair (and there was a _lot_.) Gave her flocked hair, re: she has dark brown skin and lighter brown hair, cut very short. I gave her a frown line on her forehead and a crease between her eyebrows to make her appear older. I redid her lips so they are not shiny.

[nightmarist]

My Avvar OCs ! Expanded on one and added another.

Valdyr Lambs-Shield, Fieldmaster. 57, he/him Scar over his eye, cheek, and nose, burned claw marks on his left shoulder an some on his back. nearly black dark green eyes, long, curly black hair, deep tan skin, thick beard and moustache. Two-handed weapons are his preference if need be. He has two children in their teens each from two different wives (per Avvar custom), Dyrk and Bolor, but where he respects and cares about his wives, Lysala and Foradis, his actual interests lie elsewhere (men).

He got his Legend-Mark Byname after shielding a lamb from a demon when all other animals were safely herded away from a rift. He promptly dispatched the lowly wraith, and bears the claw marks.

He takes care of the fields for gardening, farming, and animal husbandry, and is the primary teacher for these skills. He is somewhat skilled in animal tracking for the sake of keeping track of herded beasts, but he is much more adept at understanding animal behavior. Usually it is up to him, the Huntsmaster, and the Augur to create burial rites for the animals that have passed, as well as lead prayers for animal sacrifices, oversee butchering to make sure it is done right and with care, makes sure all instruments and people involved are properly kept, and other such things.

Eitha (Eiða) Vysadotten, Augur apprentice. 23, she/her Dark red hair, tightly coiled; dark skin with warm undertones and dark orange eyes. Broad shoulders, overall unblemished save for a few scars over her upper arms from picking berries out of thorn bushes as a child. She is not particularly a skilled fighter, but knows self defense spells when need be. She is an apprentice augur and learned spellspinner, weaving enchantments into her thread-spinning and drawing staves into armors, clothes, door frames, and more. She is still learning other forms of magic.

She has been taught Lowlander reading and writing, and has been taught some basic etiquette informally by Orlesian University scholars who had been welcomed to study the Rams-Peak Avvar as anthropologists. She is not particularly fond of Orlesian magic, but has learned some of it whilst borrowing books. She and the current Augur have learned such things along with a few hunters and fieldsworkers for the sake of interacting with Lowlander traders and more.

Both are from Rams-Peak Hold east of the Frostbacks, and west of the Fallow Mire near a valley. The Hold Beast is a larger-than-usual Ram with slight rusty red coloring over its back and a great rack of spiraled horns. It often protects its territory from unwanted creatures, and sometimes even people and travelers. The Rams-Peak Avvar often see the Ram, Brathblot, in the steep sides of the mountains with a few of its flock. While typically wild sheep do not have a hierarchy, many of the sheep seem to trust Brathblot as it protects them.

The Avvar tend to the sheep that come and go freely in their valley hold, sheering them and using their wool, or milking them. They also herd and take care of nugs, druffalo, and brontos. They do not have many deep enough lakes or water sources for large scale fishing or boating, but they do have several freshwater rivers and brooks with a few small fishes. They tend to prefer gathering and domesticated butchering.

Name notes just for fun:

Val means "fall/fallen" in reference to the dead, and "dyr" is the generic term for animal but also just "deer" ; "valdyr" is a kenning for "wolf" sometimes translated as "carrion-beast" (though its mostly just "animal of the fallen"; it can also be a kenning for other animals such as crows, but it seems mostly cited as a wolf kenning). Valdyr Lambshield is a slight joke about being a “Wolf in sheep’s clothing”

Lysala comes from Lysa meaning “light” and sála meaning “soul” as a simple name about beauty or goodness. Foradis comes from Førra meaning “first” and dís being a female spirit, as a simple name about being first born. Dyrk means “glory” and Bolor from Böl meaning “misfortune” and ör meaning “arrow” thus “misfortune’s arrow."

Eiðr just means "oath" , Vysa just a silly Dragon Aged version of Visa, which means to guide, direct, or show something.

Braðr means sudden, hasty, or impatient, and Blot just means blood. Essentially Brathblot means "quick-tempered" or "hot-blooded"

No particular reason for these names, naming people "Beautiful" or "Glory" or "Weapon" or "Firstborn" etc etc are all just common names in all languages. The ones that were purposeful were Valdyr and Eitha as a farmer and a spiritual leader respectively, and Brathblot as a silly name for an ornery Bighorn Sheep.

[the-enzyme]

I took slightly better lit photos of my repainted Ken Looks number 5, on his DamToys 1:6 action figure body, at the request of a friend to see comparisons between that body and his original (made-to-move?) Ken body. I am so happy with him, I kind of want to repaint more Ken. I never thought I would want to, since my first repaints of Ken doll didn’t have rooted hair, and that is my preference for fashion dolls. However, I love this head sculpt, and the fact that it is a rooted head, makes it just so much nicer (IMHO).  

I only regret not having the option to shrink his head a bit, since he does have a flocked under-shave; submerging the sculpt in acetone would melt the glue and ruin it. I rather keep that intact, since flocking it not something I plan on trying any time soon. I prefer smaller heads, on broader shoulders for my male dolls, so his proportions on the 1:6 action figure body are not exactly as I would have liked. However, they are better than on the super-cartoony (IMHO) default Ken Looks body. 

My repainting skills need a long way to go, before I am satisfied with them. Despite that, I am still very happy with how he turned out. I am also pretty happy to learn that his default stock fits on the 1:6 action figure body, except for the shoes. I was afraid the pants wouldn’t go past his thunder thighs, but they did, even went on the padding on his inner thighs (which I didn’t even think about removing). I hope the shirt won’t stain the rubbery upper torso. I was thinking about adding some amount of texture with mostly red toned acrylics, to give the body a better match to the Ken’s plastic, but maybe I won’t have to. Not because I am lazy, but if I don’t have to, I rather not try. DX 

I also regret not sanding his chin to my liking and just trying to shade it to look smaller. If I am ever adventurous, I will try to make it smaller, without damaging the rest of the repaint. (:

[kursed-curtain]

✏ + bby no1 with his dad please and thank you~

Wayne came home late to a house quieter than usual. A peace that reflected his mood - tired after a long day fiddling with customer orders, and the typical complaint or two. He creaked open the door to his son's room, letting light slowly stream in.

On the floor, with his head cushioned by the thick pages of informational books, laid Kenneth. Wayne smiled, then scooped Ken off the floor and tucked him into bed. He brushed Ken's hair to the side, his son quietly humming as he smiled.

Curious, Wayne turned around and picked up one of the open books. He bookmarked the page, then leafed through the chapters. Walls of text separated by detailed infographics on Daventry creatures and obscure populous - from the smallest of badgers to the largest of bridge trolls. He chuckled at how something so factual could spark Kenneth's curiosity, more so than anything fantastical - something typically catered to a child his age.

Wayne opened the book back to the page he'd found it on, so he wouldn't alarm Kenneth when he eventually woke. Wayne placed it on the carpet just as it was before.

He clicked the bedroom door shut, then prepared for tomorrow's work day.

– – – – – – 

The roads were familiar to Ken by now - two lefts at the crossroads, then a right till they reached the small brick building of Father's shop. Although, the walk was long, and the same trees got repetitive after a while. Silent travels often got boring.

His father tapped on Ken's shoulder. "Do you want to play that game again?"

Ken gasped, then nodded rapidly. He loved a good game of What Am I - and he was known to get through every game without forfeiting his guess. 

After thinking long and hard, his father thought of an excellent character to be. "I'm known quite well for my distinct appearance, on top of my intimidating and particularly loud call…"

Distinct appearance… Now what could that be? "Are you colorful?" Ken asked.

"Not particularly, I believe…" His father pondered. "Well, other than the eyes. The luminesce blue is a prominent part of who I am."

Ken's eyes widened and he jumped excitedly in place. He knew exactly who this was! Ken's gaze wandered to his father's amused smile, making Ken immediately stop hopping - He had to stay professional, just like Father! Ken pulled at the oversized lapels of his jacket-like vest and cleared his throat. "Are you a snarling snarlax?" 

His father chuckled. "That would be correct!" He patted Ken on the head. Ken peevishly fixed his own bangs, but giggled nonetheless. 

They continued this game for the entirety of the long walk ahead of them. A feisty, clucking creature with a long-necked flock mindset? You're a yarblesnoof! A polished steed with strong feet not to be trifled with? That's a snute! Ken held a bit of an advantage, but he didn't mind - no harm in knowing too much about your subject! Plus, he had to admit that he couldn't help himself. Getting quizzed on his knowledge filled him with bouncy energy, and he loved the feeling.

Ken spotted the familiar sign pointing towards town. His father nudged him on the shoulder. "A final one. This one might be a bit more tricky." Father teased. Ken hummed in anticipation. 

His father cleared his throat, "I may be small, but I love to consume things bigger than I."

That one… that one stumped the young Ken. He almost forgot to continue walking, until his father took his hand. Ken took a crack at a guess. "Are you a rat? Or… or an owl?"

Father playfully shook his head, then hoisted up Ken and placed Ken on his shoulders. "It's a tricky one, I know. Do you need a hint?"

Reluctantly, Ken nodded. He buried his chin in his father's hair.

His father pulled at the hem of Ken's vest. "I'm also known for wanting to be much bigger than I am."

As he looked the clues over, Ken rested his ear on Father's head - a playfully poor decision, as Father tickled at the open space in-between his neck and chin. Ken broke out into loud laughter, his father bouncing him as he walked.

Then, the answer hit him. He bent over to look at Father, a smile building on Ken's face, "Are you me?"

A proud grin, "You are correct again."

Ken gasped, then happily hummed a sing-songy, "It's me, it's me!"

"It is you! My wonderfully bright-minded son," Father said, as they approached the door. "As well as my eager helper. Do you want to get down?"

Ken nodded, practically bouncing on his father's shoulders. As soon as Ken got on the floor, he rushed to the storeroom - his vest dragging behind him. 

Wayne smiled - a smile of overwhelming love - then followed behind his son.

[pcwpolwrestling]

2/17-PCW Extreme Political TV

Political Championship Wrestling Extreme Political TV Saturday February 17th, 2024

Announcers: ‘The Voice of PCW’ Johnny Suave AGE: 50 / HT: 5’ 11” WT: 195 HOME: Philadelphia, PA HAIR: Brown / STYLE: Like Ronnie Dunn / FACE: Goatee DRESS: Brown suit without tie

Colleen Crowder of ‘That Big New York Newspaper that Pushes Narrative as News’ AGE: 38 / HT: 5’ 5” WT: 142 HOME: New York City, NY HAIR: Black / STYLE: Curly / FACE:Narrow face with rounded jaw, turned-up nose, faint freckles, and thin lips. Bulging blue eyes, thin eyebrows. DRESS: Black pants suit

Charlie Blackwell Promo “PCW… PCW… PCW”

Tonight’s show started in the center of the ring where the new PCW Champion Charlie Blackwell (American Heartland Coalition) stood, a triumphant grin plastered across his face as he clutched the PCW Title belt against his chest.

“Welcome to PCW Extreme Political TV,” ‘The Voice of PCW’ Johnny Suave’s voice boomed as the crowd roared in approval, a sea of hardworking faces looking up at the new PCW champion with adoration and hope.  “Last week, Charlie Blackwell of the American Heartland Coalition defeated the American Patriots’s Kirk Walstreit and the Progressive Alliance’s ‘Mr. Hollywood’ Kevin Daniels to win the PCW title.”

“Last week,” Blackwell began, his voice booming over the din, “we showed that the American Heartland isn’t just flyover country. It’s the heartbeat of this nation!” Beside him, ‘Red Solo Cup’ Ray McAvay raised a plastic cup high, as if toasting the masses while ‘Prairie Populist’ William Daniels Bryan nodded sagely, his eyes reflecting the fire of shared conviction.

“Corporate cronies and big money special interests thought they could buy or politic their way to this championship,” Blackwell continued, gesturing to Main Street USA’s Farmer John Deer, American Girl’ Sarah Mae Smith, Ken Worth-American Trucker, and Mike the Mechanic who stood firm, a symbol of every small town main drag across the country. “But last week, we showed to everyone that the spirit of the people ain’t for sale!”

“PCW… PCW… PCW…”

Just then, the lights dimmed and a discordant guitar riff broke through the cheers. Berkeley, California Professor McCarthy, flanked by his eclectic group of intellectuals dubbed ‘The Flock,’ sauntered down the ramp. They had the air of disdainful scholars about to lecture the unwashed masses.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“Aw crap,” Suave’s voice said over the vociferous boos from the crap.  “What the hell does Professor McCarthy want?

“Well,” Colleen Crowder’s voice popped in.  The reporter from ‘That Big New York Newspaper that Pushes Narrative as News’ couldn’t wait to jump in.  “We should listen to whatever Professor McCarthy says.”

“Charlie Blackwell,” Professor McCarthy sneered, adjusting his glasses with deliberate condescension. “Your so-called victory is nothing but a populist sham!”

The crowd booed, popcorn and insults flying towards the professor as he climbed into the ring. His Flock formed a barrier between him and Blackwell.

“Your title reign,” McCarthy declared, “is as illegitimate as the pseudo-science denying climate change! PCW needs a champion that represents progressive values… like the ones…”  McCarthy holds up his ‘good book.’  “… in this book.  Not some antiquated heartland hogwash!”

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“Charlie Blackwell pinned Kirk Walstreit fair and square,” Suave pointed out.  “And Walstreit pinned “Mr. Hollywood” Kevin Daniels.”

McCarthy and his Flock glared at Blackwell from ringside, the tension in the ring crackling like static. The fans were on their feet, baying for the confrontation as the ideological clash teetered on the brink of becoming physical.

“Professor McCarthy,” Blackwell retorted, his grip tightening on the title belt. “You can prattle on about progress all you want, but here in the PCW, we fight our battles in the ring, not in the echo chambers of social media.  ‘Mr. Hollywood’ Kevin Daniels got pinned by Kirk Walstreit.  I pinned Walstreit.  Game… set… match.”

“Right… just like I said a couple minutes ago,” Suave agreed.

“That just proves that you are biased towards the American Heartland Coalition,” pointed out Colleen.

Suave fired back.  “That’s funny seeing as the overwhelming amount of reporters seem to lean farther to the left than most regular people do.”

McCarthy’s lips curled into a smug smile, as though he relished the role of intellectual agitator.  “You do not speak for the people because the people are stupid and need intelligent and enlightened people… such as myself… to tell them what they should think, speak, and believe.”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

“Nope,” Suave said.  “They’re not buying it.

“Oh, there will be a fight, Mr. Blackwell,” McCarthy sputtered. “And when we do, it’ll be a battle I assure you, you’re ill-equipped to win.  You are not the champion PCW needs and you are not my champion.”

McCarthy climbed up… with a little help… onto the ring apron and faced the crowd.

“Listen up, good people!” McCarthy’s voice boomed, each word dripping with condescension. “Right now, I want you all to take out your phones and type in the following… hashtag- not my PCW champion!”

A murmur rippled through the crowd, a mix of confusion and disinterest.

Johnny Suave’s voice crackled as he leaned into his mic, “Folks, it seems the good professor is trying to start a social media revolution… but these fans aren’t buying what he’s selling.”

In the sea of spectators, not a single screen lit up with the fervor McCarthy had envisioned.  Their collective shrug was a silent rebuke to his call to arms. The disconnect was palpable- McCarthy’s digital decree lost in translation to the salt-of-the-earth crowd before him.

“Well they should,” Colleen said.  “He’s a Professor and he’s smarter than they are.”

Frustration flushed McCarthy’s cheeks crimson as he absorbed the silence. His gaze swept over the crowd, searching for even a hint of compliance, only to find none. The hashtag revolution would not be televised, at least not tonight.

“Your silence speaks volumes!” McCarthy spat, the pitch of his voice rising as he pointed an accusing finger at Blackwell and his allies in the ring. “It simply proves that you’re all complicit in the suppression of progress. You stand against me; you stand against truth and intellectual supremacy!”

“Profession McCarthy,” Blackwell shot back, steadfast and unflinching. “First off, we don’t need a lecture on what to cheer or chant. We don’t need you or anyone else to tell us what to say, what to think, and what to believe.”

McCarthy shakes his head no.

“Oh yes,” Blackwell continued.  “We speak our minds—and right now, we’re all telling you that you’re full of *BLEEP*!”

Laughter erupted from the crowd, a chorus of solidarity with their heartland hero.

McCarthy, undeterred, pressed on, his voice reaching a fever pitch. “I will not be silenced! I am the voice of enlightenment, and you will hear me!  WE WILL SHOUT YOU ALL DOWN!” McCarthy’s tirade continued, his words becoming white noise against the backdrop of jeers. It was political theater at its most absurd, a satire played out in spandex and sweat. The professor’s attempts to mute dissenting voices only served to amplify them, his authoritarian streak laid bare for all to see.

Cut back to the broadcast table.

Opening: “Hello everyone and welcome to PCW’s Extreme Political TV,” Johnny Suave’s voice boomed, as electric as a live wire, through the speakers. “I’m Johnny Suave, and on tonight’s program, Sports Entertainment returns to PCW as the Sports Entertainment Corporation will be in action tonight.  It’s one of PCW’s long running feuds… Sports Entertainment versus political wrestling and tonight the SEC will take it to the extreme once again.  Also, PCW Owner Dawn McGill has a big announcement she will make tonight.  With us as always… Colleen Crowder from ‘‘That Big New York Newspaper that Pushes Narrative as News.’”

“Thanks, Johnny,” Colleen began, her tone dripping with disappointment, much like the way ink bleeds on a biased op-ed piece. “I wish you wouldn’t keep putting it like that…. but let’s talk about that fast count that robbed ‘Mr. Hollywood’ Kevin Daniels of his fair chance last week. It’s as if due process was thrown out of the ring along with any semblance of justice!”

Suave filled in the blanks.  “Let’s go back to the end of last week’s PCW Extreme Political TV and the PCW title match won by the American Heartland Coalition’s Charlie Blackwell.”

The camera cut away from their tense exchange, focusing on the video screen where a replay video clip rolled.

(Last Week on PCW Extreme Political TV- PCW Title Match): Kirk Walstreit, the embodiment of Wall Street greed in spandex, was seen rolling up Daniels for what many called a controversial pin.

“Look at that!” Colleen barked, pointing an accusing finger at the screen. “Daniels represents the glitz and glitter of Big Hollywood and he’s rolled up like an enhancement talent? Where’s the accountability?”

“Controversial to you.  Not to others,” Suave retorted, trying to maintain some semblance of neutrality despite the politically charged air that filled the arena.

The clip continued…

Kirk Walstreit climbed to the top turnbuckle, muscles tensing, his face a mask of determination and capitalist fervor. Below him lay Charlie Blackwell, the man of the people, sprawled on the canvas – a representation of the American Heartland Coalition.

“Here we go!” Suave shouted.

Walstreit took flight, soaring through the air with the confidence of a corporate bailout. But as gravity took hold, pulling him down toward his target, the crowd held its collective breath. In a twist of fate, Blackwell rolled away at the last possible second, leaving Walstreit to crash and burn upon the empty mat.

“But Walstreit missed big time and Blackwell capitalized!” Suave narrated with gusto as the American Heartland representative covered the fallen Patriot.  “One… Two… Three!”

The arena exploded in a cacophony of triumph.

“And as you can see, Charlie Blackwell did it! He is the new PCW Champion!” Suave exclaimed, his voice echoing the euphoria that swept through every row and seat.  “I know what Colleen’s news narrative is about the match.  Let’s go backstage to see what “Mr. Hollywood” Kevin Daniels has to say about what happened.”

“Mr. Hollywood” Kevin Daniels Segment Cut to backstage where the mood was a stark contrast to the electric atmosphere that pulsed through the arena. The concrete walls did little to muffle the roar of the crowd watching the replay of the PCW title match from last week.  But in this quiet corner, defeat hung heavy in the air.  “Mr. Hollywood” Kevin Daniels sat slumped on a steel chair, his face a mask of frustration and sweat, a lone figure silhouetted against the flicker of fluorescent lights.

“Hey, tough break out there,” came a voice, as smooth and comforting as a chart-topping ballad. “Pop Superstar” Taylor Switt approached, her presence instantly brightening the dimly lit space. The pop superstar, clad in glittering attire that rivaled the championship belt for shine, extended a manicured hand and helped Daniels to his feet.

Daniels holds up his cell phone… chock full of condolences and commiseration from the Hollywood A-List crowd.  “That’s what everyone keeps saying.”

“Should’ve been your night, Kev,” she said, her words more soothing than any melody she’d ever sung. With a sympathetic tilt of her head, she handed him a bottled water, the droplets beading on its surface like tiny diamonds in her grasp.

Daniels sighed, accepting the bottle. “I’m the embodiment of Hollywood and that slimy Kirk Walstreit pins me?  And Charlie Blackwell is the PCW champion?”

Switt nodded, a knowing glint in her eye that told of battles fought in spotlight and shadow alike. “You’ll get ’em next time,��� she assured, her confidence infectious. “The people love an underdog story—especially when it’s set to a killer soundtrack.”

Cut back to the broadcast table…

“Kevin Daniels vows with Taylor Switt by his side to win the PCW title from Charlie Blackwell,” Suave recapped.

“And he should,” Colleen stated.  “Daniels would be the perfect PCW champion.”

“Well, we heard from Kevin Daniels,” Suave stepped back in, “let’s hear what the New Wolf of Wall Street Kirk Walstreit has to say about what happened last week on PCW.”

Cut to…

Corporate World Segment In the opulent confines of Corporate World, manager Gordon Guyko stood flanked by gleaming mahogany and cold steel. The scent of money was as palpable as the aftershave that clung to his jaw. On the wall-mounted screen, the replay of Walstreit’s missed opportunity looped endlessly, each failure punctuating the silence.

“Unacceptable,” Guyko spat, his voice slicing through the plush carpeted expanse. His advisors, a cadre of suits as sharp as their strategic minds, shifted uncomfortably. Not even the luxurious leather chairs could cushion the blow of their wrestler’s defeat.

“Charlie Blackwell thinks he’s won one for the little guy?” A sneer twisted Guyko’s lips as he turned back to the screen, where Blackwell’s victory played on mute. “He’s about to learn that in this business, it’s not the size of the dog in the fight—it’s the depth of the corporate pockets backing it.  We’ll use every tool at our disposal,” Guyko continued, his gaze cutting to each advisor in turn. “Super PACs, lobbyists, market manipulation—you name it. We’ll launch a hostile takeover of that title belt if we have to.”

“Consider it done, Mr. Guyko,” an advisor affirmed, the rest nodding in agreement, their loyalty as bought and paid for as the legislation they lobbied for.

“Good.” Guyko’s gaze lingered on Walstreit’s image frozen at the apex of his leap—a moment before gravity and fate pulled him down. “We’ll take back what’s ours. After all, greed is good…”  Guyko grins.  “Greed is really, really good.”

And with a final, decisive gesture, he swiped the screen dark, the chapter closing on a promise of corporate retribution.

Cut to…

MATCH #1: The Sports Entertainment Corporation (The SEC) vs. ‘The World’s Least Dangerous Man’ John Wack and Bob Zardoz The arena was engulfed in a cacophony of boos and jeers as The Alabama Kid and Gator Bates of the SEC (Sports Entertainment Corporation) made their grand entrance to the ring led by their ostentatious leader, ‘The Sports Entertainment Genius’ Triple R. Clad in a tailored suit, Triple R stood tall with his broad shoulders and chiseled jawline. His golden watch glinted in the spotlight, drawing attention to his confident smirk. The audience’s hatred only fueled their egos, evident in the way they held themselves with utmost superiority. Their attire, adorned with gaudy gems and flashy logos, glittered under the bright lights of the arena. The sound of their confident footsteps echoed through the stadium like a drumroll, building anticipation for the upcoming match.

Suave’s voice spoke over the entrance, “The Sports Entertainment Corporation have returned to PCW and…yes…  they’ve brought along their official media organization.”

Following closely behind them was their faithful ally, the Corporate Sports Programming Nation or CSPN, armed with cameras to capture every moment of the SEC’s reign of dominance. Mark Splitter- CEO of the Corporate Sports-entertainment Programming Nation, Reese Anderson- always dressed in an expensive suit and tie and coifs some impressive television hair (think Dan Patrick in his prime), and Rebecca Morris- blonde with her hair in a bun and wears a business suit with heels.

Suave continued, “Already waiting in the ring are ‘The World’s Least Dangerous Man’ John Wack and his partner Bob Zardoz.”

Wack dressed like the John Wick movie character while Zardoz donned an outfit reminiscent of the iconic 1970s Sean Connery movie character.

“Let’s go to Kimber Marshall for the introductions,” Suave said, a hush fell over the crowd as ring announcer Kimber Marshall stepped forward.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Kimber Marshall said.  “Our first match is one fall.  Already in the ring, the team of ‘The World’s Least Dangerous Man’ John Wack and his partner Bob Zardoz!”

The crowd erupted in cheers as the large men flexed their muscles.

“And their opponents…”

The bright lights of the arena illuminated the two opposing teams as they made their way to the ring. In the blue corner, accompanied by the self-proclaimed ‘Sports Entertainment Genius’ Triple R, stood the SEC with Gator Bates and The Alabama Kid at their side. A chorus of boos greeted them as they confidently smirked their way forward.

The referee cleared the ring of the CSPN camera people and called for the bell. The anticipation in the air was palpable as the crowd waited for the clash between these rival teams.

“All right, here we go,” Suave announced excitedly. “The SEC versus John Wack and Bob Zardoz.”

As the first bell rang out, a tumultuous whirlwind of high-octane action erupted on the wrestling mat. Both teams traded lightning-fast moves, showcasing their signature flashy maneuvers and leaving the crowd in awe. The SEC’s synchronized flips and spins were met with equal force by John Wack and Bob Zardoz, who responded with power slams and technical wrestling skills.

“Wack and Zardoz are holding their own,” Suave exclaimed.

But as the match progressed, it became apparent that the SEC’s smugness and disregard for rules knew

no bounds. They resorted to underhanded tactics and cheap shots, utilizing illegal double-team maneuvers to gain an advantage over their opponents. The once-neutral crowd now booed and jeered at the SEC’s unsportsmanlike behavior, their voices echoing throughout the arena as they rooted for Wack and Zardoz to overcome the odds.

Undeterred by the mounting pressure, John Wack stood his ground and refused to back down. With a surge of adrenaline and unwavering determination, he launched a counterattack against the SEC. His movements were fluid and precise, each strike and acrobatic maneuver executed with pinpoint accuracy. The audience erupted into a frenzy of cheers and chants, their energy fueling John and his partner in their fight for victory.

The crowd watched in disbelief as ‘Sports Entertainment Genius’ Triple R made his move, sensing the momentum shifting in their favor. With a sly grin, he interfered in the match, causing chaos and confusion for both the referee and the audience. As The Alabama Kid delivered a vicious low blow to Bob Zardoz, the crowd erupted in outrage, booing and shouting at the blatant cheating tactics.

But things only got worse as Bates entered the ring with a steel-folding chair in hand. The crowd’s anger turned to horrified gasps as he struck Zardoz with full force, sending him crashing to the mat. The sound of metal meeting flesh echoed throughout the arena as Bates continued to pummel Zardoz with the chair.

With Zardoz now helpless and injured, The Alabama Kid and Bates took advantage of the distraction and executed their finishing move- a deadly double-team maneuver that left Zardoz motionless on the ground.

As The SEC members prepared for their inevitable victory, John Wack tried desperately to intervene and stop the pinfall. But his efforts were thwarted by another member of The SEC, leaving him unable to stop what was about to happen next.

As the referee’s hand slapped the mat for the third time, declaring The SEC as the winners of the match, a wave of disappointment washed over the crowd. Boos and jeers erupted from all corners of the arena, signaling their disapproval of what they just witnessed.

But to The SEC, it was just another successful night in their quest for domination. They reveled in the chaos and hatred that surrounded them, taunting and gloating over their victory like true villains. Bates and The Alabama Kid stood tall in the ring, basking in their ill-gotten glory.

Triple R Promo As the commotion settled down, ‘Sports Entertainment Genius’ Triple R grabbed a microphone and made his way into the ring. He smirked at the booing audience before raising the mic to his lips.

“Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce myself,” he began arrogantly. “I am Triple R, the new leader of The SEC and mastermind behind their countless victories. And tonight, we have once again proved why we are the most dominant faction in all of PCW.”

The crowd continued to boo but Triple R paid them no mind. He went on to boast about The SEC’s recent string of victories against other top factions in PCW – the American Patriots, Progressive Alliance, and even their rivals within The SEC itself.

“Our success knows no boundaries because we have something that no one else has – unlimited resources,” he declared smugly. “We have NIL money pouring in left and right, we have money flowing in from our big contract with CSPN, and that allows us to buy only the best talent like Bates and The Alabama Kid here. And together with our fellow Power 3 factions, we are an unstoppable force.”

He paused for a moment to soak in the boos and chants of “cheaters” from the crowd before continuing with his promo.

“So go ahead and hate us all you want, because at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. The SEC will reign supreme in PCW, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it,” he boasted with a sinister grin.

The crowd’s disapproval only seemed to fuel Triple R’s arrogance as he dropped the mic and exited the ring with his fellow SEC members, leaving behind a trail of chaos and resentment.

Dawn McGill Speaks Dawn McGill made her grand entrance into the PCW arena.

“Oh no no… why?” Colleen bemoaned as the blinding lights of camera flashes highlighting every curve and dip of her stunning figure as the tamer pictures from her recent Henhouse expose flashed on the video screen.

“Tonight, Dawn is here to make a big announcement,” Suave explained to her. “And unlike other wrestling shows, when we say we have a big announcement… that means we have a BIG announcement.”

Dawn strutted confidently in stiletto boots, her long blonde hair teased and flowing on her shoulders like a golden waterfall. All eyes were on her as she stepped through the ropes and into the ring, microphone in hand, dressed in a skin-tight outfit that left little to the imagination. The audience’s voices hushed in awe and desire as they waited for her to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” McGill’s voice boomed through the speakers, causing a few fans to cover their ears. “I have a major announcement to make here tonight.”

The crowd leaned forward in their seats, eager to hear what she had to say.

Colleen?

“Ugh.”

“I’m pleased and excited to announce tonight that PCW will be crowning new tag team champions in the near future!” McGill exclaimed, raising her arms in excitement.

The audience erupted into cheers and whistles, buzzing with excitement over this news. They had been waiting for new champions to be crowned for months now.

“Now I know you’re all dying to know who will compete for these titles,” McGill continued, a sly smile spreading across her face.

The crowd roared even louder at this tease, their eagerness hanging in the air. They were already speculating and placing bets on which teams would come out on top.

“The American Patriots, Progressive Alliance, The SEC, and… the American Heartland Coalition,” McGill announced with a dramatic pause. “Each team will select their own representatives to compete in the tournament and a drawing will take place to determine which team faces off against whom!  The tournament will start in two weeks!”

The crowd roared again as Dawn took her leave and headed back up the ramp.

“PCW is going to crown tag team champions,” Suave recapped, “in a tag team tournament!”

“Look, I’m not crazy about the SEC being included in this,” Colleen commented.  “But again… the American Heartland Coalition?  Should one of their wrestlers qualify for this type of tournament?  I would argue that they don’t qualify.”

“I see you went to the state of Colorado school of determining who and who can’t be involved in this type of contest,” Suave cracked.  “What’s next?  Kangaroo courts… like a third-world country… the Russian judicial system… and the New York courts?”

“You take that back!” Colleen spat back.

Colleen’s righteous indignation only grows when…

Donald Trump Promo The energy in the arena was electric as Kimber Marshall stood in the ring.  “Ladies and gentlemen,” she began, “get ready for the one and only former CEO of PCW…Donald Trump!”

“Son of a bitch!” Colleen growled.

The supporters “TRUMP!  TRUMP! TRUMP!” chant is sung to the tune of the Imperial March:

“TRUMP.

TRUMP.

TRUMP.

TRUMP-TRUMP-TRUMMMMP

TRUMP-TRUMP-TRUMMMMP”

A golden spotlight shone down on him as he walked out, his hair perfectly coiffed and his suit exuding power.  The people in the blue seats booed him unmercifully.  Most of the people in the red seats cheered for him vociferously.

Donald Trump stood in the ring and stopped in front of a giant screen with Nikki Haley’s image displayed.

“You see this? This is what I’m up against next week,” Trump roared into the microphone. “Nikki Haley, let me tell you something. You may think you have what it takes to defeat me, but the fact is, you’re nothing compared to me.”

The crowd erupted into cheers and boos as Trump continued to taunt his opponent. “You may be a former governor, but I am a former President. And that carries a lot more weight. We all know who the real winner will be when we face off in South Carolina.”

He raised his hands triumphantly as the crowd chanted his name. “So Nikki, keep dreaming about your big victory because when it comes down to it, nobody knows how to win better than me. Remember that!” The sound of his voice echoed through the arena as he made his exit, leaving the audience buzzing with anticipation for their upcoming showdown.

Cut back to Suave at the broadcast desk.  “Next week.  The big showdown.  Donald Trump versus Nikki Haley in South Carolina.  Will it be Haley’s last chance?”

“God I hope not,” Colleen said.  “Nikki Haley is the last chance for the American Patriots to do the right thing and stop Trump.”

“Because the gross misuse of the American judicial system doesn’t seem to be doing the job,” Suave sniped.  But before Colleen could respond, Suave continued.  “Let’s go to a commercial break.”

Felcher and Felcher Commercial The video screen flickered to life, revealing a scene of suburban tranquility shattered by a man slipping on a banana peel, cartoonishly flailing as he plummeted toward the ground. The words “Felcher and Felcher” blazoned across the screen in bold, gaudy font.

“Have you ever been victimized by rogue fruit peels?” a voice boomed, dripping with mock concern. “Don’t just get mad, get litigious!”

In strode Felcher and Felcher, sporting suits so sharp they could slice through legal briefs. Each held an oversized gavel, swinging it with the finesse of a pro wrestler delivering a knockout blow.

“Here at Felcher and Felcher,” the first ‘attorney’ declared, sitting in the front seat of a very expensive Tesla vehicle, “we believe in justice for you… the people, no matter how trivial the affront! If something bad happens to you, someone’s at fault and they should pay…”

“Your neighbor’s dog looked at you funny?” the other chimed in, his eyebrows arching comically while standing in front of his multi-million dollar mansion. “That’s emotional distress! Ka-ching!”

“Spilled coffee on your own lap because you forgot it was hot?” continued the first, his grin wide enough to shame a Cheshire cat while lounging on his large, white yacht somewhere out on the ocean. “Clearly, someone else’s fault!”

“Call us now,” they exclaimed in unison, pointing directly at the camera, from their exclusive VIP seats at a local sports arena, “and we’ll fight to pin the blame on anyone but you!”

A catchy jingle played, a parody of patriotism wrapped in a commercial ditty: “Felcher and Felcher – remember, if you’re having a bad day… someone needs to pay!”

The requisite low and fast-speaking voice at the end spewed out, “Preferably large corporations and insurance companies with deep pockets!”

Nikki Haley Promo The arena was electric, the smell of sweat and excitement lingering in the air. The audience cheered and waved their signs as former Ambassador Nikki Haley made her way to the ring.

“Well, we heard from Donald Trump earlier in the show,” Suave said, “now it’s Nikki Haley’s turn.”

She stood tall and poised, exuding confidence and determination with every step. Her fiery gaze fixed on the camera, she began to speak.

“Listen up, PCW fans!” Her voice boomed through the speakers, commanding attention. “In just one week, I will go head-to-head with a man who claims to embody strength and resilience, but has only brought shame and division to our country.”

“You preach, girl,” Colleen cried out.

The crowd erupted into cheers and chants of “Haley! Haley!” as she delivered scathing remarks about her opponent, President Trump. She raised her hand to silence them and continued.

“I support PCW because it represents everything that America should stand for: unity, sportsmanship, and above all, integrity.” Her words struck a chord with her supporters in the audience, who roared their approval. “So Mr. Trump, you better bring your A-game next week, because I will not back down.” She stared directly into the camera now, a fierce glint in her eye. “And when we face off in South Carolina, may the best woman win.”

As she dropped the mic with a confident smirk, Haley exited the ring to thunderous applause. Her message was clear – she was ready to take on any challenge and fight for what she believed in. And the crowd knew that she would do it with grace and determination, representing everything that PCW stood for.

Suave hyped the match. “Next week.  Trump versus Haley in South Carolina. Will this be the end of Nikki Haley?  Or will she somehow pull off what right now seems to be a very unlikely win.”

“I hope so,” Colleen said.  “Because I don’t think I could take four more years of Donald Trump as the CEO of PCW if by some miracle he defeats Joe Biden at Extreme Election Night 2024.”

SPECIAL MAIN EVENT The arena’s air crackled with electricity, a tangible buzz that vibrated through the sea of fans who had come to witness an epic showdown. At the heart of this pulsating energy stood ‘The Voice of PCW,’ Johnny Suave, microphone in hand and a gleam in his eye that spoke of a night destined for the history books.

“It’s main event time!” Johnny’s voice boomed through the arena, igniting a roar from the crowd akin to thunder rolling across the heavens. He paced the ring, each step punctuated by the chants and cheers of the audience. “Tonight, we have a special… main… event for you.”

He leaned on the ropes, surveying the sea of signs and painted faces, every supporter ready to explode with fervor. “We have the PCW Originals—Gary Locke and Earl Loade, the Raving Rednecks, ready to lock horns with fellow PCW Originals… the audacious and ever-defiant The Dixie Chucks!”

“Let’s go to the ring,” he continued, his voice laced with the kind of passion that could only be found within the squared circle. “Kimber, take it away!”

As the anticipation reached its zenith, Kimber Marshall, the embodiment of vitality, burst onto the scene. Her entrance was a spectacle, her vibrant attire reflecting the lights in a kaleidoscope of color. She high-fived fans as she made her way down the aisle, every gesture sending waves of excitement crashing over the audience.

“PCW, are you ready?” she bellowed, and the response was a cacophony of approval that might as well have been an earthquake. “I said, ARE YOU READY?” The second call was met with an even louder affirmation, the kind of sound that reverberated in your chest and left no room for doubt.

“Then let’s get this party started!” Kimber exclaimed, her infectious enthusiasm sweeping through the arena like a tidal wave, leaving no one untouched by the sheer magnitude of the moment.

The arena’s energy surged, crackling like static as the opening riff of Toby Keith’s “Who’s Your Daddy?” ripped through the speakers. Spectators leaped to their feet, a sea of frenetic anticipation, as the PCW Originals, Gary Locke and Earl Loade—the ‘Raving Rednecks’—burst through the curtains.

Locke, his face an etched map of battles won and lost, wore a grin wide enough to swallow the room. Beside him, Loade—his partner in mayhem—tipped his hat to the crowd, the brim shadowing eyes alight with adrenaline. The duo strutted down the ramp, slapping hands with fans who reached out like disciples for a touch of wrestling royalty.

“Introducing first… they are the RAVING REDNECKS!  Gary Locke.  Earl Loade… LOCKE AND LOADE! ”

The song’s chorus hit a crescendo, guitars wailing, as the ‘Raving Rednecks’ climbed the steel steps and ducked between the ropes. They stood center-ring, basking in the roars that filled the space—a tribute to years of sweat and blood spilt within these hallowed ropes.

Then, as if on cue, the music faded, and the raucous arena fell into a reverence that was almost tangible. Locke and Loade removed their battered cowboy hats, heads bowed, and the PCW community united in a solemn moment of silence.

“Fans across the spectrum,” Kimber’s voice now carried a somber weight, “we honor a legend tonight. Toby Keith’s spirit is right here with us, in the heart of PCW.”

Locke’s jaw clenched, a muscle twitching as he fought the emotions threatening to break surface. Beside him, Loade’s gaze lifted skyward, a silent nod to the country music titan whose anthems had been the soundtrack to countless PCW showdowns. In this hush, the politics of the ring were set aside; here, they were family, honoring one of their own.

As the silence broke and the crowd gradually resumed its fever pitch, it was clear—this was more than just a match. It was a testament to the enduring legacy of those who’d paved the way, a song of pride,

Amidst the lingering echoes of tribute, Kimber Marshall’s voice sliced through the charged atmosphere, her tone a harmonious blend of anticipation and authority.

“And their opponents!” she announced, her words igniting the crowd like flint to kindling. “They’re back and they’re STILL NOT READY TO MAKE NICE! Chuck-atalie… Chuck-mily… and Chuck-artie.  Welcome… The Dixie Chucks!”

The audience, still riding the emotional high of reverence, now found themselves pivoting to an altogether different vibration. As Kimber’s declaration set the stage, three figures emerged, their shadows stretching long under the brash lights. Each stride carried the weight of PCW tradition, but their attire sang a discordant tune—a flamboyant parody of country glam and unapologetic kitsch.

Chuck-atalie led the trio, his wig an exaggerated cascade of blonde curls that bounced with every step, framing a smirk as calculated as it was provocative. Flanking him were Chuck-mily and Chuck-artie, equally adorned in caricatured wigs, their expressions a blend of mischief and defiance. They sauntered to the ring, the sequins on their costumes catching the light, throwing sparks into the eyes of the beholders.

As they ascended the steps, the crowd’s response was a cacophony—jeers mingled with cheers, the collective voice of PCW a tumultuous symphony of emotions. But before the din could settle, Chuck-atalie snatched the microphone from Kimber’s outstretched hand, his movements sharp and deliberate.

“Listen up, you political pawns and power-chord patriots!” he bellowed, his gaze sweeping the masses like a general surveying his troops. “We’ve shed our old skin, torn the labels, and trampled the stereotype. We ain’t your chuckling Chucks anymore.”

He paused, allowing the words to sink in, to etch themselves into the narrative of the night.

“From this moment forth,” Chuck-atalie continued, the microphone crackling under the force of his conviction, “we stand united, not as the Dixie Chucks—no, we’ve outgrown that moniker. We are simply, fiercely, unapologetically… ‘The Chucks!'”

A roar erupted, the PCW universe divided yet bound by the spectacle before them, the ring a crucible where satire clashed with sincerity. In this arena, the absurdity of politics wrestled with the rawness of emotion, each slam and shout a metaphor for the battles beyond the ropes.

“Here we go!” Suave said as the clang of the bell reverberated through the arena like a declaration of war, and without hesitation, the combatants launched themselves into the fray. Gary Locke, his eyes alight with the fire of a man who’d seen every dirty trick in the book, reached beneath the ring and produced a steel-folding chair. The metallic sheen caught the spotlights as he swung it with precision and nailed Chuck-artie with the chair.

“HOLY CRAP!” Johnny Suave’s voice boomed.

The Chucks were not to be outdone in this debate of devastation. Chuck-atalie retaliated, wielding a chair with the finesse of a political spin doctor, deflecting blows and landing a resounding crack against Locke’s back, echoing the sound of campaign promises being broken.

“Chuck-atalie swings back with a vengeance!” shouted Suave, narrating each impact with the zeal of a scandal breaking news story.

The crowd was a living entity, pulsating with every strike, their roars rising and falling with the tide of battle. They watched as Chuck-mily, with the agility of a maverick, dodged a wild swing from Loade, only to counter with a swift jab to the gut, using the chair and cutting off his opponent before they could make their point.

And then, tables entered the narrative. The Raving Rednecks set up the wooden tables but The Chucks had other plans.

It was Chuck-artie, his wig askew yet his spirit unwavering, who seized the moment. With a rebel yell, he charged at Loade, sending both of them crashing through a table with the impact of a game-changing ballot recount.

“HOLY CRAP!” Suave declared, as splinters flew like confetti at a victory parade.

The crowd cheered, on its feet, their collective voice chanting “PCW… PCW… PCW…”

The resounding crack of splintered wood still echoed through the arena as Gary Locke, his face a mask of determination and wild abandon, hoisted Chuck-mily high into the air. The crowd’s collective gasp was the only warning before Locke brought him crashing down onto the remnants of a table with a thunderous powerbomb.

“Locke drives Chuck-mily through the table!” Suave bellowed, his voice capturing the raw energy of every body slam and dropkick.

Earl Loade, meanwhile, locked eyes with Chuck-atalie. They circled each other.. With a sudden burst, they collided in the center of the ring. A flurry of punches flew. Loade ducked a wild swing and countered with a ferocious clothesline that sent Chuck-atalie spinning through the air.

“Vicious clothesline by Gary Loade!” Suave howled, his commentary sharp as the action unfolding.

The PCW faithful were on their feet, their cheers and jeers mingling in a cacophony of pure wrestling fervor. Every member of both teams was now fully engaged in the brawl, their moves a dizzying dance of political satire. High-flying maneuvers from the top ropes saw wrestlers soaring through the air aiming to land with impact.

“Locke going to the air… NO!” Suave quipped, as Chuck-artie narrowly dodged a missile dropkick from Locke.

The intensity escalated, the boundaries of the ring no longer able to contain the ferocity of the match. Bodies spilled over the ropes and out onto the floor. The concrete below became an extension of the battleground, a place where allegiances were forgotten and only survival mattered.

“Looks like we’re taking this debate outside the chamber, folks!” Suave exclaimed as the fight raged on around the ringside area.

Chairs were swung but the only response was the sound of metal against flesh. Tables, once standing proud under the bright lights, were repurposed into makeshift platforms for launching aerial assaults. Each wrestler used the environment to their advantage – the barricades served as both shields and spears, the ring posts as strategic strongholds.

“Chuck-atalie just got introduced to the steel steps…and it wasn’t a cordial greeting!” Suave’s words painted the scene with the vividness of an action-packed graphic novel.

Amidst the chaos, the Chucks and the Raving Rednecks fought not just for victory, but for the very soul of the PCW. It was more than a match; it was a statement, a raucous referendum on extreme wrestling itself.

“Can you feel the electricity? Can you feel the democracy of destruction?” Suave roared, the question rhetorical, the answer written on the faces of every fan in attendance.

The referee’s hand came down in a relentless rhythm, slicing through the thick tension that hung over the ringside like a fog of war. “One! Two! Three!” His voice was lost amidst the cacophony of jeers and cheers, but his message was clear as day – get back in the ring or kiss the match goodbye.

“Four! Five! Six!” The Raving Rednecks, limbs entangled with The Chucks, grappled on the concrete.   It was a no-man’s land outside the ropes, a battleground where every suplex was a filibuster, every chokehold a debate that wouldn’t concede.

“Seven! Eight!” Johnny Suave’s voice thundered over the PA system, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is political pandemonium at its finest! Will they make it?”

“Nine!” The crowd held their breath, a collective gasp ready to burst forth from their lips. The wrestlers clawed toward the squared circle, their efforts echoing the climactic push of a campaign trail.

“Ten!” The bell tolled, not just ending the match, but also sounding the alarm for a decision that left no victor. A draw. The bell’s chime resonated like a gavel bringing order back into session, declaring both teams counted out.

The audience exploded with emotion, a mix of frustration and awe at the spectacle they had just witnessed. Some fans threw up their hands in disbelief, others stood and applauded, recognizing the sacrifice laid out before them.

Both teams continued to brawl on the floor.

“All right everyone,” Suave’s voice brought everyone back to reality, “Next week, the South Carolina showdown between Trump and Haley will be a clash of titans you won’t want to miss!”

As the wrestlers collected their bruised egos and battered bodies, making their way backstage, Suave signed off with his trademark flair, “This is Johnny Suave, saying stay extreme, stay vocal, and most importantly – stay tuned for more PCW action!”

[libidomechanica]

And how shadows, that feel that

A treochair sequence

               1

Your hair client, the entitled is as of Flora and air! Call not

when the scawled still the wood cabinet their arms of right of hemlock there;

so, when the claim of night me; while hid in sight, eight. A is fall subiect

this. Own, since nonsense, how Meg o’ the jewel- like a haystack. Then hour, till

wearing dews. Angel of dewy splendour, here, her tongue so sharp shalt be,

art, we would burn to me subject. Powers and clouds and loosen it lies

banished not any book! The not all this holland every pearl, can ever

spring in the can makes my lady, Dians peered for comfort there. For

that far and the brimful of the eyes we do pray individed within

the faine tropes, well on Menie doat, an’ she were all with your silent

awaited all cheat, in that was a crime. But remember’d my dear, there!

               2

Teach time, mature and I loved like a boulder. His long-with-loue-acquainted

to meet air mail and lie, everythings ebb and me enfauld, I pursue:

’twas and Thine eyes and Fletched peaks a louers. Beaumont and hear away.

The that god for than evening the Light! That head sit, those none of thy soft

name of Thee is a path descend, all these discords of a beaker full

an ecstasy! ’ The luring grace: not all girded up the arms above,

or plays her foregone, the bed, their art of my tree, and I will not say,

Just this soul, an’ she look, heaven fill’st a look alone she raine recouers.

And that today is hid that one and shred the dying one, as a pass.

               3

Your hand sheets springs vnto Dianaes tribes for the cattle style blushing. Haste,

make with thee will no more.—The bonie Sandy O, my break of kisses. The

other apart; yet, as upon the square a dead, o my stood translucent

ears amid the sun is heart. By and in a flocks and lie, mortal,

nor Hope and they keep the midnights and the scaffolding smart made the shall

night I caught there. Lo, plea comb’d at dawn and there me, wretched vote may hair.

               4

Love bad me love, charmed, that still seek and die and free from the which when the

whizzing war turning; I curse or wearine being is most faire, at the

hold through I should tree will quite curl—can comes do flow; an’ it’s nest what the

bed. Is confesse; have becoming his Soul couldn’t wants thrill on Menie doat, and

flames, Spring, broken. But they first for breast where in drift page the heart make

Cup whose Throne, I leaden-eyed Eulalie white her, from the age in the drreams.

               5

Words I know. Sat a victually tied thus involuntary Vintage!

               6

Upon bed to me, and Hoigh foresee, somehow— I know despair? And how

faire for I am but her has twa which thy way, and bower’d; oh Fount

of music, the door forget but by my like syrens in his Darts, because

of you take or more thy cloak, to recreate to say, complain and

building cry, then the woman approves, at last graceful is comes in small

flat oft-times unders cald, through sure set my Lady’s weight. An’ ken ye what

were no double at my heart, and from committen boughs, hand without all

thee to prove Confusion of old to Jove than skies. Worked not where are sweet;

the evening. Your to stored baith sweet, and the little pretty pills across.

               7

Death, knew all. Thy shakes in tight didn’t. No placed, and secret joyfully do

the Moon as if she inward springs: a cheat, in a flame delight did

the not enough! That hope to all inuade they blushing curls all Create

this with doth impassioned so shew like the with he, how sholde I love of

thy breast where braw lass made their poison door. With heavy hear thing on that

aimest wide of the dying of thy gloom; up the stray, not permitteth.

               8

—Now will has a dewy more to me the old Parnassus flow, for a

girl, her darling beauty though thee are mens her dear, no though he death; such

a one; that, whose Two Lover, without it, then hath place. Said the little

pair of fame: I now tis such mine eyes haue, and live your eye? The Heaven,

down thinke upon the posture her charms round his breast when tongue beauties shines

out and the beauty. Come again, alone showing in practice. Good Son,

whose fame, if rule by pleasure, not deare only because your arms like me

love the night! To muse, yet not blow them: but slyly staggering hours mock

the yellow- green, which, as your shamefully would be, which Thou on bed.

               9

Just once by forms of murder, death-white a shotgun. But Sorrows stormy,

thou leave me in the Mill his Friends me why think of Thyself alone. Here

all the gleaming his laureat it may lights. I than are like vibration

of music, our gloom will would marry, if these other on one’s own sad

heart of fire to a boy with choise desire; by would grow. Whan tongue, sleeping

spect, and o’erpay. To lord and slily was most joyfully, for the

debt I owe to thing, vseth. Thou are passion bow, and thy slaue, are is ring.

               10

Alone, save hadde it keeps canopy throught upon the grown a little

snakes me, Lover me? This primrose, through she, thought me flying cauld, as good?

               11

We cannot like thief which only Friend, dost the hint, and triumphant spring,

go back and to lay thy adverse, blesse, or dim that it soup? I did

forbid eating which seam gleaming wings, hinderstand if she wild sparkling

not perhaps the ribbon, love as we sin, alone. For chide me up

into a puff’d by all other show, yet have sleeping is spoke young so

long that began, When you art praises struck cable. Then hall, their neck, And

you art out of his grace that that it is a dead at thou promised in

odours choke that sings; in a choral eglanting, broken walks in his

last furnace, althought, not to reproach the beating stay near divine Musæus

sing of Heavenly. And, all your slave, I am that I owe to

run away discover, that faine tinsell might seaward from who understand

one wound, and strange thee perfumes haue: a rightful cries might once before

hath buckle to him and who see to me, is condition. Is less—lessons

I feele the Mill her glad arms about withouten a clouds and

changing the not out of a fancys error have acted vague fingers

pluckt, while that vnbitter noblest sat in a diuels in luve thing from her world

are throws in a wave all toss of the sad? Of mine Eyes of proofs and Evil.

In a keyhole when those lips, the stand, while I crawled the going by

vnright have call of you for can fright with her to the sate by pearl-gray dawn.

               12

—The bonie lass made their hand thy prison where there I wake or stir in. One

whose mansions of raine; while had returned in black, feign’d. I’ll clear the thro’ all

that I dream, I dreaming skill, making up or droop; through not so much oft

hath make shall let a body be. Of these our barns when the burden mixt,

and played window, and wars, and some children, let me who stay near? Or charter

teeth wealth adieu; since may below! And tears in the air, where palsy,

or sullen art exercised throne, poore men sit and she stands touch, no more.

               13

Adieu! Heart thou are unmatched by evening which hold as if not losse reports

and his like a gleams. She, meant him plants a Neighbour’s Wife, drawered

around by authority. An’ it’s terrible weight through my daught have

seedsman’s Glory live. We were the day I was bedded. Thou, sweet Draught I

was married, my fill’st me like a jesterday? Now that same to her rotten?

In the grey durst, have me birds in trouble as sunny harts our each

other when in our and a peace, flesh, at who stand thy advocate—and

swelt; and this hand was once my comfort, conside him; such a day I die,

this and I meeting; sun and Evil. One holy and day; but she shadow

One where is for his last for pity! Angel of then on his Strength

by limping on one minute pass watch when I doe learne spect, and if

unreprove hart best sorrow after as a skeleton. For a meadow

One is little Kings—glory might to be one in secret, history. I

claps’d her loose all the sweetest sorrows sits applause. By thou among the

fancy flames, Spring, half-hid in thy braceless and wonder month of

clear: margaret! Clorox have ears that spring; I curse of hope to that the

nights witness, while the hundreds and spring, who felt alone. That shall clear

sweets and my charm the inward smart made tongue and those Wisdom while under

my body mind, how bright, and I love not that pictured more;—Farewell toss

is their full and farewell’d woes with her sing for why a body be.

               14

The beholds yfeer that he leave men’s voice thankful rhyme, that place, as you,

you of time I things on her ’twere flowr, there is through the Greeks’ love, up the

which came a peace may tell might deem, I dreamed. One mine own: thou lent’st hems bread

ha’ one in every Day I wast never grave. I feed the orchard

flower and should faint must of they, like, that picture does now had to my

grief lay on my hand we are like a hornet’s get till thee so, that sing,

the gain, for her e’e? And yet not permitted that either, a paved step

aside, till the worlds the leave me the salt tide till might wings on flight, because

is almost him, the you to that time— not just poppy the church on

thy stout blow to blame Majnún, and she had beauty of woe might of folke

bow, when to whose tears, to ourself anothers, intoxication, alas,

and rise, or seemes ease of summer of fired men are allotted

lava. Bedded were, while solo act- that you pace forth thee weel a

certain both with it; my fill the might be summer-night and swell’d her eyes,

face, secret he, in the trample was whispered my palsy, or quiet,

my birds in vain—if it winna let a boy was, as once can say; come!

               15

An Alien Shah of insufficed and planks unseen, and more was

the earth and white her soul controlling; and to sleep her sepulchral urn,

I askéd a thing the taste to me. Child ephemeral: but angels such

civil be; models, such as yourself, as quiver and faine this is, and

that plainly sets forth I could as do lie her burden of thy white-wall’d

tower grows storm-beaten would be my beauty;— Mortal, but for the

subterranean echo ringing linesse, and most may private play, and

that from her with his constant loue with dost lord, breeze, the wood, for the smiled,

no soun’. Alas for my tongue but like a hawk, and and grammar, vowel

sound his Generation wings, have know: margaret! Why do those Fount they lie

abed without a book their poison to me this worse the street, while I

am bewilder’d horses from only at whose Throne, are not saue, murder,

do it come seas, in our eyes, dost dim lake. That glance, in the blanch’d earthly

with her thy swelling roguish glares work and fret. For it’s jet, jet black,

an’ it’s jet, jet black down when you of the past, and fauns and losing her.

               16

Whose Fount you there, socks, at the morning dandelion see. I grieved its

springs to weight be the humming hot water bosoms fit. Come, doth been

hairs, we’re alone; most sweet perfect all the had sunnes sight can everyday

to theefe! Be a guy but love, come, my dear, were a lithe light at her

thy foot on the pines her maiden had to his ringle person can, when

I am soft Catullus, shall not go gentle into this stand in

it is thy prayer! And fauns and calendars, and need from my Children

in pink corduroys and captainess, me a muse, you moved the oiled for

thy sings are peach cheek is wet more clear: margaret! And, as none to strong to

green, had fork, my luve’s gardens fair of many a summer’s amends

his Chamber your true sorrows, that other. Solace bring when springs to

his deep in sigh; for I am to my misty river of my luve,

I love? Doubt these, from sweet of a greenish mee. ’Ve beyond to that

I might of things; by the Sleep! Martial, and the Mill hie, over that busy

points. The sente me in my weak. Seasons: he is sad like down the warre.

               17

Heart’s Blood. It wings, the Queen camest too much; I wantonly a feel smiles

that it mighty, fidelity on the light. Me, if Maud aff your love.

               18

And denisen’d soil, creep, when the evenfall, in thy staggering grace,

all word no: now we meet; she is no length of Treason, and silver through

life to bed to picks up a song, astarte with a sweets singer, with how

can pick the coming music, am grows team, a dreamed her look, what is

my translucent did change eyes we pass watches might have seem’d, as the spray;

an’ it’s jet, jet black, and all round and how true my love of her e’e? Because

in thy last the mounting, will not chemical mixtures there ten with

us do excels, an’ shape. So love or war’s quiet, with it winna

let a body mind, and kind. Take and clamoring of my aching the

bits onion root only ask why. Over an Alien Shah whose our

name in the man joined sit, I ate with arts years in his Moon are grew—how

bright with your eye? Latin Kings—glory, which thyself within a children

dear chide world were than unswept awaited all remember body passing,

and how sholde I love, and life! By all more to burst thy amiss, or

die by praise their necks, secure and I who reaches ne’er for ever-change.

               19

If chanted slope in a thee! You guess, or to glide. Much did never grow.

               20

A Kurd am to recreated is. She hasp of my Sandy O.

               21

Easy to pot, burn that, to me, if Maud, Maud? Tell me, his brilliant fires.

               22

Forget till on Menie doat, and her loudly she gods, their world—ah me! By

their even in flight. Such a salve candle- light and dumplin burn to plaining

leave me this or this wife, the heart, my dead and stream, thou in the sea.

               23

When tyrants’ crests, hath choir’s amends at the inlaid woods white good night,

visibly female. To haunt the stock from myself another by side, keep

in like the blood and his Dust which from than dear call for ever reads his

dreaming a heart of the sky! You own down to me, I thought! I have my

braces, that I might Theefe, with your love. Shiver and Queen of Passioned

note of the Father all these valleys, vouchsafe your most oppress Shadowy

brother in the true my love. Shine image, rage again: I find to

the come a tread and sing, will not charmes resist? Come the cherye was

Indignation wait the came. Lest another disclose into the Mill love

their most sweet Minister Day, Design upon the Veil’d—but even so

loving the danger of hers here, that lovers by my golden shape and

Fletched vote may repeat, if it were all still not speak to thee and kind

guest health free burgess. By my graceful doze I sorrow, lintel, scarce fingers

down where stand again; but a smitted loneliness made far the which

of conscious ghost, thou shuffle your pocket, and grammar, vowel sounding

a her deaths young Eulalie her e’e? And that dim the lasse, as my heavenly.

Or look, for a sudden a certain dreams did never wish in all

sung by, sail and my separate fruit doth no prating cruel; do not keeps aside,

and a though verdurous as when, and bear the same men of an

animals? Yet show, the arcades, a ceiling of all. Or shaw, that my heart.

               24

To tell in jollity, while it in my smile thee discord, but love like

they: alas their pedantic look at the wauks. All the honour’d the life

exultation. Life,—so I, my transform the lass and of straight at a

tinkling find to you must beside me beach, by Fortune’s dear, were sometimes

unto thing its splendour and she bed to me make shade. That made with delight,

when their skims, and all in jollity, and so streets and tender more

their pretty lambs we are arms are ringing here yet! On the tender our

most high disdaine; not you known to plaintive least doth music, am urged

by bands or the little floor, no sin unbolts thy light and catch mine own:

perhaps. Toll me back, my last fading coursing takes that tower to weep.

               25

Of late thee. With me; Blythe costume. From thy Shadow-like can my fancy

can’st sense a wild climbst though verduroys and dies away in a lass that

swelt; the evening; my fair and you knocking airs. And time her. Do note, that

swelling, and broils root though you of that little can be done put in thee

now I then, while hid in milken net, and I meet. Then, vngrateful Death,

th’inherit after, ever perfect Somehow—I know no beauty.

               26

Yet showers and loathsome move, her hand to Jove the rotten times happier

men—good! Tired with me why do youth will render hand, mark is all

the can once to see will gaze at closes, was colds false, that to me, if

Maud, turned, to relation of ioyes. It selves forsake an Eden of my

tears, not out the dark and her side, and the Veil’d—but evening, garden: leave

me alone, and look, then sweet hour and so ouerthwart their worse is not say

the shepherds for us most mite may so fail it is long their guided

were measure, we’re alone. On the day, and unrespectre seasons, which

stupified the bay? The drear falls on this way! I kissing soul affliction

coot this issue, and calling. Or all, no tygres king’st the day? Blind we

are above them while you will soothest Sleep, in the Fantom of the towering

cry, and lilies, to glide, till a’ the was your partiall help the rest

in the was so easy lips, so sore, the every sacred glorious

is you, beauties worn page to me alive will no more such as mind brick.

How sweet breast, hand, laid befriendship is Reproofs of that Hope darkness, burst

that we’ll silent to me, the could a blockhead ha’ one him on thee

perfect Beauty from sun in corner often any other of these

ill-change. Nor a man’s own, down knot. In gleam of hands, rose immortal Bird!

               27

Mouse, you to enioyeth, shewe living heares her more luster fer biyonde there!

               28

Doubt—now I then complaining them which when the tenders can sense to dry

radiant girl, for the Greek from thee, is golden to bear the pride of mountains.

In this way, do in thy monuments, open cage. Pavement for this

or theeues stones moan, and increases late by the sea! To feel you needy

nothings; and to testy sing, heart’s Blood. Tho’ the lark’s early. Make to my

left slappers the very moment they see my heard him to The Shah of

his wife he does she the bed to still day; come never fast. Eight, with my

virgins to graced grass. And forbid the clock of Laila smiles stroke offender

others yellow-green: and to standing yet it will forget the sibyl

store&wand’ring so be kind: and, when winds howl, and rosé on their rotten.

               29

Where I for tomb. Hear my heart may nothing bee, and without. As define—

nor heed my own behold, cold as feares her e’e? Or to see him. I

have my starve although life! She winter that last Duches me, my Katie?

               30

Lay your springs to her lion to open can dies: let crutches the

rock, we are rich in many with a pink waves; say their evening to disease

mine eyes with Roses and sings; they turn up like a dog in return’d

springs renewing light! Worthy face, or her lips, as I lay the

murmurous haue: a right had her eyes, forbid hath made thee! Nor forget till

on Menie doat, in my charioted by that she, me ancied its lulling

to think of kiss, of a world we rose, on ever read it flies when flye.

               31

Much noise. I thinks, and endlessly—but better is like a musk and come

again, and the same despair, how Meg o’ the rode with love, yet no just

opening crime. She were not in the love to clark he wast never me?

Where men mama who never fear’d with thrown, and dumplin burn their music;

with Phoebus light, within the grove, and paine. Though when tyrants through he gas,

put out of Them it come, reap thy stores, cool’d and song cauld, and paine driue cloudes

from the where share in all the mans make me thing that two recreatest

bud. Not say the fancy flat of thy prince her of glad, and I not

charioted by in Paris, up that planks wont, conside him—for the ivory

sets flow overtue only, call the tedious born a wild with no law

of beechen fields does now doth bind itself may light the which its lulling.

As soone mistress, where Truth, we stood twine, suffer than is our name is all

other. The mavis and lie, most posies, that gentle England, and aye

so sore, the air, that hole of Heavenly tunes of the sobs of ioyes from

Syria, or slender has no mark is wings to unfold the people,

out of his pasture taughter’s Language whom I grief and fauns and honour

of fire this wreck in my Muse, thou loved, is the living rise? My words euen

there I find to her the world out of day; lorn a wake, there lagging in

the garden- gate: and cassia crown’d. I, seeing of Treason, and heap’d;

you loneliness it else entire world was and meant heart, and more fret.

               32

Exercised in my mind determines serene, which to first days by morning

dark one, thou, records of pleasure, but Flight, and that very scent did

hold that ’tween mama who have lights of Love thou do not till a’ the bundle

in him from white her slender in her if I’ve becomes the spring-

tide. And I will come, matured, singing invocate—and to have won her

sweet, to his Eyes shine live. So doth such and its cheeks are such thy glorious

eye; and Glory as a thinke one; yet have sleep upon Maud and left

lonely hand as if sheet. Ever fear this honestly became so! Light

are than and fill’st me, do you Diuell me, whose own down, and books and turned round

by my gravity and shred the wild-woods or say, which I cry, then we

roses do exceed for they models, such a glasses, beneath wailing

the snow those bears of the heauy cheerless, of all is cross thy proud, and thou

among toward tuch, and equipp’d a Camel, and ne’er forget Still music

hath buckles on summertime. Like a praise or starry Fays; When to burst

the blossom’d bear your truth miscall’d to that spring remove in all us

what will not thou guess tries? Fade forth I touch, no more half asleep I

drowsy number for me! But no sing you to me. He courtesy now

at dare na showers quickly to love; where arms about the sonnets present

pay for a tumult shall my claiming so caughter, that I promise

sucked in my sunny as which include than the Sheikh, my breaks of gracing.

               33

Me the ribbon, love in every flowers in sweet What is double both

may remember your names of Poesy, a ruin, under is summertime.

And was it rain passion of foul affronts a Noodle heard no: now

we met her discourse thinke of love loves for it. Yet I so love all these

reports, blow the death; into the wall, to climb, a dream of his Name the

frequent that is time starve alone; sweet roses; where is in thy faces

the church on then already with me there. A corn; an’ she lovely framed;

he turned, while threat, once unkind in a Corner, pass, you shall the honor,

or else entitled its suit being town a little one in the mother

of fire worst shall overtrodden valleys, amang till all the

mountained more with blow so yellow vapours of sorrows team, a dreadful

night not a kind, feed met me if I am burn away fled; in the

budding it upon my new life! That ensues, sing street music and in

his bow, unless a Sword, and thee so, that the color is like a horror

hair clip, which never that what swell—thou, whose party is ever smiling

kiss some away; this mow’d, and now crown, which I have been, his Present,

poore my woes now at darkness paine, cool wave breezes blow so yellow night.

               34

He love; lest I love. Half your love no more Prayer is rings to perplexes

fit. And seem’d, the sky Fie please, I say? The shall live their or found sunly

and all- oblivious Conscience, bide each evenfall, do fear’d She,

And yet again!— And maun I still, which stone shore, that hope, dear, but whales doth

bind it selves in scorn is no one lassie, dissolve, and it and wished by

time or well, since where it feel the worse, in on his old while his the queen

of living shamed, I am but feel you must remove? I sigh, and weep,

sleeps; they would recall yet it by a gang dreaming mistress break from the

seas; a Foot, and like syrens in dreaming of the bay. A dreade it nor

than forget till, which my wild sparkling in June; o my sake lilies.

               35

Love fires. You there; so, when to sin unbolts they pleasured courting song.

Men of her roguish een. And his Darts, hands our of the claim no more with

fine the danger. To grass. Lin’d, and secret, more! And a voice I’ll liberty

is weake? For it’s jet, jet black, an’ she was soon and with reward glide.

               36

Pillow together. Name any cheek; perhaps that, once my hair like a

body be. Of lovely state the Mill loss in her springs of all move,

and we are passions as of light. Wantonly is hid in his Strength of

happily frame, i’ll ne’er forever sigh thy Secret for think of a

tinkling roguish grew up with her die and eyes we scarf, window solemnly,

you of the priest haps that’s what thief to see with so caughter’s. But heart

become not you now. You come the chase me the daylight! We canst thou death;

next valiant, and there though wailing roguish, the worlds the shiny thicker

than the stormy, thine at midnighttimes: leaf, or seeing by, sail and

beauteous drought urn become again; but feels right beak could be said: I must

be attending arise, that shall I be a fit. We can; who have grot,

where is thine thicketh arts our of the Hall- gard’n-nymphs white rush of Children,

calling you called her in the like shining that other, my own can body

be. Was cald, there we pulsing a wave at his chorus led mountains.

               37

Look not her grant me, I calling came this fast they say; so unregard,

for newly sprung in opened late th’ Anatomie of your master’s

pink wave in a spheres, opening, who will but a small fate alone; yet

I should one wit his garden If tho’ matched Weed be. On the subject; and

my paine ranked me or infection when tyrant the towards Loue with doubt the

distant to me, may pride of her. The little busily a dandelion

rage; incertainting-ground, from me. All gone terror what Meg o’

the melody— then she stand itself arise, whose Throne that I am

soft incense of your and simplicity, an’ ken ye how wanne has twa

sparkling roguish een. Disbelieve my sunk: tis time, thing on this wish

in Battle tepid pool, dry thee? To cut did moving knows; from they falls

a lawful the end of the top, he leave they tell. Is meant so be losse

reward true, that same and in my death’s dately morning, go back, an’

she sighing I dinna let he, for years- old name and her loud, had hair

is high Hall- gard’n-nymphs white-wall’d him soft name in one’s dear fall singinge? Loads

of these disquiet die. I know when would once and comes down to picks up

a sorrow flew to pot. The great brave done pray to one live in grew; I

gave the day by that made the dying their arms aboue lou’d, and danc’d to whose

Cheek of Laila smile so! Would say, couldn’t have seems I feel it who under

hands not wishing there, away by desire, my lot, his freely near?

               38

Eldest brain is not only, and hath the fret or newly watch mine could

writing of my palsy shaking and built of old men in scorn—what none

puts out of joy and vision, or seeing steal o’er throught, under as if

alive in rattling world, yesterday? Yet, if lowling, I things—glory

from them eternal ecstasy! Filthy issue be in show, the

grow after that tell her courts: beg from my blush’d simple pretty Peg, my

friends touch’d the murm’ring, it crown’d, the sure than for pity! With thou dost invest,

and the bundle of King gate. At a dandy-despot, alas! Felt

alone in the fear to a puff’d with the dye of the stare; and He shall

be to whose globy rinde? Just describe me ruffled rosé on the light to

not charmed, that fault was in secret Beauty beauteous such stuff was a dead

with half-flush that, he shore us, I feeling snow that night. Light. She sin,

and sunne, thou so framed; heav’n is of the Roses down that th’ ename

in time my loveds had sunk: tis times to me to tie her clean, that it

is allotted lava. With him, a thine on thy baited me up into

Flight, where is a chemical without my speech owl to prayer! I

find your most sweet he, in love my pray? Love harden: leave many a third—

To the crawl into a chamber, and still as I avowed to clean

buttercup in like the valleys, make there you hast high mournful hum toll me

am call the evening. Call on Menie doat, an’ made my thou art that live.

               39

Or can majestic windows the proportion whom part of Julia, I

may no occasion; as well observe our master-times seaward running,

salve candle- light put one eyes struck cable. Come, do you, my Lover’s self-

same day she heauy wing, sheikh held him; till midnight: I deem’d fu’ low unto

with my tongue, the night her out. Is to proved like me world thy lessons forests

and perilous ouerthwart the grot, while evening, the wide what no place;

sylent and blood with thinking is best secret, my Lord, by Honour’d Home.

               40

And in the for earth, and the world were lost help me! A stars of Thyself

to pot, burn to marine being take me before the Universe, it

is a fresh, at lenger dream. Make it come why the toward tuch those lips, and

white horse to pot. Wound heaven whether ioy hath heau’nly now crown behoof,

who will excuse of a wild with the night to haunt of owls the patience.

               41

Whose looked me. —Did on the banks unseen, where! Then I do, yet there I fountain-

side—till bite. Which is most higher. And I see the kings on its cautious

sense, as I avowed to be her. But and darkness of thy lore to

thine, meant him time, sweet, more to stormy, this stop this self again, my blood

as dew, under if you this place. Call fate and fawn at all to that thief,

a lithe little birth, since the sea; and said she winds but know’st me, made the

caught to his Dust with wait,—haste some with new- borne in a bit of his old

strange, the Sheikh, I should write the drreams did the law of vintage! Mail of the

deem for the her grandfathers yellows; from only at night, like a

jesterday? When pure and moisten, while half-hidden roses newly sprung in

the hundred kisse!—It screen; three zodiacs fill’d with no length claw&rock, we wild-

woods among the tail out the bend towering to not this powers, but to

toll forth; your sport past, the grave! Struck not onley shine eyes. Upon the square.

The greet ornament we have altar- And danc’d towering roguish een.

               42

And I see his Hand of injured the Moon as hermit’s newly cut hark,

cracking better in the lintwhite agree? Crazy for joy, for one neutral

this or the music which pain—up the Sleep, and call her to the Mill

we canker- blooms have sees between meadows and again forests and built

a lawn, then, beholds clean, that in the darke placed, milke hands, now when only

is like a roystering charmed verse, bless, of a hawk, and no window. Sat

a Lovers’ soul gives that, to be a flake to perpetual daytimes

soon made the Duchess pain discloses: but Thee, I that gushes, thou will

ruined for compare with younglings, that best can fight Thee to feel smile countries,

and Thou; if I am not how Meg o’ the linger, do fear thy

soft incense flies by. Upturns here, her know how vapor can dies; in thee;

nor company looked more crying a little snaky Persius, to blow:

the bed to say: I lay thy Grace sheds, an in pleasure, at lenger drop

at all the clover us. I deeme thus, my dream of him, you threat, or

say, Just there we’ll the flower, nor please reports and so we falls on the

end his longing, granted one of liberty. Rage, wretched people true,

that she light in sonnets praise sheets, do not in themselves to the love as

the subterrace— all as a tears to Sleeper though Ioy her syne, whether.

               43

While there be it in the tears. And down an hour I do, decease me, dear

the little month to say, because of my arms on the higher. The Rose—

and for the polished Casket of strange exclaim than a woman and amber-

colour’d Home. Let the head more dide the sugar bowls that terrible

were but the linkèd hand, and singing, hast the slowly mountaines seem by

the cologne. A right can iudge of the which wooed wo, most joyfully, for

her for your footsteps of the wild lake, made the there no light, when the bay.

               44

Not the life and set forests, my orphan steel. To say: I labour bedded?

Of murdring mossy skull is each morning phant spring roguish een.

               45

But, I say? And again: its suit seemed from the Mill words expresse: or no!

               46

And morning by that poisoned not Angel of this name her was Indignation.

Quick, it’s the blizzards and rarest of air, and so the summer

beck, then he be sweet. Hang out in what you lover know beard, or wages

but we, as to pot, burn and white her blisses. Numbness it says, I free

a wild lake, my poor treasons, when pale till the debt I owe to laugh when

natured, you there bridge. Pass that louers scorn—what away: let’s newly spray; an’

bade my true. And slept its echo rinde? For my heart shake to with a pink

but a sing away; that dancing light; an’ it was blacke but a germ of

aged sires, thou float orb crown’d, the fell awald be thy part, my love my

skirt the Heaven, my sense! Loving of the other; and ne’er forests, have

no more such smart. Prove hear stood to me, dear the strong, is goods among to

pot, burn to my Belovëd, is naked you waking, with been thou are

spent of the candle-light at he little so! I have not mattery!

               47

Who have snakes me from myself arises stories some never show itself

Thou see the lofty mountains, and wish undo his is a green fixt

on a row and lean, watching much smart. Hath buckles on youthful swains of

flight—a fee; mine forehead more Praise, the oiled forbidden do you, lights, while

had throws in each night and more sweet, but a body be. And filled me love

becomes down to melt wi’ twa drifted together fill were sure the raging,

and ceased from my Clay to rid him out the Night with wealth you and go

auspicious gate. I now the plays when all ill stood this way! Beaker full

of aged sires I see a forward running, the scaffolding streets, half

your bedded. Where in our of their words of glad, and in she hath was seen

that place the Lark if her lulling under our master-tide least.—The bonie,

both music, while I am becomes soothes me primrose, I die, that all

enforce in my boys, cool waves with him, and triumphantomime of my grieve

that slowly altar-stained to sleeves. Unto the air, where to prove? But the

little oak- room on they turned to tie her colour’d friend foule warrant

possible for the took to things—oceans I do, deceit. Dance fleets and

lusteth no law for thanked somehow—I know will lo’es dead a peach: he wild

with me, in a cold, a sod. You love; lest haps the accountry gracing.

               48

—And maun I still the past pricket do notice and clamorings vnto thinke

now unto a pond of my care, my state, you, my mother, that was like

a shows no pace enioy. I, that do speak is send yet not a flow; thread

the braw love; you knock bank of my chery, without my arms till word by

our liberty; and, found my wings pass like me for the sun a love live

the restores and sweet pharmaceutical kiss, excuse young madrigals.

Mortal, guilded in her whether less as we propinquity to adorn

that I owe to ruined honour of day let crutches and grow mad,

a hands our soul the streets and play’d with a smite does now and his side, wi’

a kisses steals in each drawn; to sharpe arranger of her fearless, find

opened to feel the seas gang dry. We’re all his poor rhyme; but like the patch.

               49

Passion to you with flower salesman. And the ebb-tide. The cloudy evening;

in the would pay. Round you knowledge of Lover, with me, the was none

of thy perfect all ioyes. We were one in her Heavenly wine-cup glisten,

whiles, little stoop to be fit each include those who foreign—back and

you among to compare, and mouth; counsel held upon my sunne, thy paint.

               50

Thus, for my separate Father courtesy, shew my way, that hope to me:

tis no opening, and body. She sits, and merry may order in

my pillow, take something elf. And that finkle hear spring, and teach others

yell: Get our pleasure, fie! Alas for joy, and sings and Phœbus find that

farre worse of his one: the faulding in her colored and darkness! Yours, for

panties I make a face enioy. With your night, who hast like a man of

the Alamo. And how fall fit for busloads of bittering into

then soft name in a spotless, and forth to his stammer’s dust, not you of

the bonie lass that sovereign this World to provided steals in each time we

thy richly resume; and that greaten why on You? The Sparrows sits

eunuchs to they blushing in June; o my mind, for butterly, it crown’d

bowl. By shadow great and transport it’s jet, jet blow softly calls, do you

this issue be not importune flowers and his longs on thy honour.

               51

Even the mountaine which I could find wards, but for a kiss nor and dancing

girl and all this frenzy insult let me where. I see what have becomes

do now. Process the night; the angels seeking at your chamber-colour,

Ah, be a Hand—prayer is no lightly sweet poisonous waves; have

done; which sourly Winterline and blood and in showeth; for though mansions.

Understands and kick your dread; his eye! Thy Shadows in such a crib. Am

I than stalk is allowed lone; yet I lose. Upon the expel as

in that beauteous men, whom revenge! And love not the Mill lean, where I will.

               52

Thought, and lilies faire-sweetly snow; or let thought have light wait, I do

dictionate, chaste despite does not unwoo’d and grac’d to endeavour ale some

of Travel, other other’s eye; and as shalt be, it in would ask no

more respectre seaweed that is good again order is each place; and tree,

turn up remembered, there the stocks of glassy skulls that the eager mate

stomakes the dying hour, her look upon yours, for all the Man person

falls on the approach shall dim. And yet long there measure. After as

a Bride is and by Bacchus a dance, brings sit smiles that hole bush; an’ she

went an Ant’s sweet, my lot, in the who looked for euery peak to Drinking

in the budding spring our face, or she waies or flocks the fevers make

defence or foul my dear, was broken. Come away, thing much stupified

to that never host thou, light and go as trace, all in joy both day, I

bade it flies of the bay, rage, rage and tombs insider’d stream, I don’t run

and the priest, my Katie! Though their daught at all in jollity, and weep.

               53

Just like the Moon of the primrose, or Counsel— where with the primordial

come away, and you in my spirits pretty sure the end of loves

flower between the lighten bolted joins a woman antique so stands

stills acrossing sweet of people goes, making while I am pretty

pilfering it up throught winna sae fainties so much did I met, the

strong Must we have come down whence fell awald be, or she went to low dead.

               54

Look, a horror of the whizzing trimm’d in trifling roguish een. Now kiss,

of a lasses, his eyes, and night. Julia, they call, and learnest any

morality or loosening take you’d suspectre-thin, while that the rocks,

when he’d comes to pay. You grown and crispeth wealth, my daught had you laugh I

hameward from her lulling. Among theeues storm, here, thou leaves which we sings.

               55

Will I hear, that was broken waste and look’d up through wait be suppressed by

taking and Phœbus find then summer or formed. Ask me wise, white she bells, and

song and that will right and dinna cry. Going a wanted is seldom

these terror have; then he bit of such and gladness pain displaces and

we’ll but shrewd gyrles Ruby-hidden mixt, and with to him down. That

awaited hooks among the store and somewherewith you, a Love, I

heaven ev’ry trespass that these for butter, I am than their state

to do with your memory. Of forests, i, that once delight, my heart

a Thee to intervene and snakes me, most sate by thee disgrace tears: all

peeling slapped it was weak. To be a bell, approve, nor left slay, champ and

Love. To say but venture seems but all the puts by the ashen-gray hairs,

or stirs they, at my heart, I heart; her slip away children, complain and

loving world for me. Catching much of insolence, infant will I, whose

purest friends with sluttish to do, deceit, cleopatra-like my Julia,

tho’ match into you are feet. And laugh’st, I’ll sing disconnected by

time, and slept in my rhyme, the take of leave me find eye, round committeth.

               56

In that fault was once mind, and me from they grieves as the Cupid girl, her

sports and folly dispair? If I might seaweed that hole world are turn into

the Eyes shine image to me’s warmth her him, and from her some out of

Joy renews but pretty Peg, my dreams did I mean she goes, beneath. The

will I, alas, from Boreas screech about willing bee, and the regions

as the entirely love of youth, sleep; in tune? If charter than all

remember went evening. Of life! And thou are is fam’d the Ant’s eyes, opens

he dolor any beloued, you repent, that? By Fate, how proue. Powers,

but I grown an ecstasy. How sweet I lose you and smile could Nature

and that is no one had ha’ cheek was the Root her breast, hands, rose,—

it screechen come down to be full ascended did glide, which thee, in truth.

Now kiss’d her robe assume it no stopped to seemed for Love doth fill thine of

my arms about what touch, first least when I do heavy eyes, a dull

refuseth, sleeping the palsy, or a tedious time into the patch.

               57

But it, stand thy fingers Cupid a blockhead her mean shower. To me.

               58

On a heart doth blinde no opening. The Court of evening the smil’d and

grasshoppings to clean but thou leaves borne on the choise design upon beauty

of bones you rise? Than forests, i, that your each draws there this consequences

Why way, through that long since sweet-gard’n- nymphs, which leads me pay the fair

and I took the dove and he came to see his eyes give remembraces

by sometimes hath made from these daisies roar out. He shore us, knew the

sweet kiss me, delight that no sing the will find room to be that brain. And

in stone, in her purest mood has twa sparkling rocks seemes ease. A

wounds, rose that the Mill was would burn that do not charm’d market with his still

come live and Queen can dies: such as whispered by a part, better side, a

long hole. And the dispair, do thee: I now crown the knew she’d me. The floor,

and dwell perhaps the wind it on summer bell, the goes by morning when

in our cheek’d Laura, come again undo his Generation where and

the cot we sing. Singing my faith leaden seat of hands, in returning.

               59

Not through her lulling beauty, but drove their maid, and heard no more the sun!

Oh Thou—then unto with young Eulalie but by Night at a tombs and glove,

as the gleam, where in curls, and shred on till the even snaw, twa spark of

Laila smile his greet ornament I’ll burn’d town. To the wake or need from

fields. That do more she thing the mystic winds hid, can state and body be.

We shall her newly was blawing and yet to Right, thanne has turn’d your sport

past that from myself the blast wave it. His world’s sake a is for buttons&

we will call vertue never an Ant’s eyes with arrow which, that night, while! Others

grow mildly on the scene, the peach swell; go trouble but the gilded

morning that was still pudding dead Dad kept it is neare herd, and nature

vex, to climb’d on the Fantom of amber— nay, the Cupid a bouquet

in every set herself the oceans new, to cut angels seene where hate

stones moaning beauty that very scene, than Heaven knot. But now will excuse

yours alive. Were but she crowned with your night. Close my stark mute blossom’d

gable-ends his honour of Prosperity though the spindle drop in.

               60

Thy sense, and, when to praise, the breeze me out of fragrant first surpassed light,

when thunder happy hour arms? And its suit rains call other fearless grace,

because you knows; hyacinth I to see grave for the day by day of

your fresh that we have gone, to hate throne terror of the where I sorrow

most in thee that hole when king’st though the Alamo. Be scorn without end

prolong’d; nor thee thanne had slain. Living roguish, the hands and heaven—from

the sugar’d with endows the balm and flow’ring of time, that to know slime,

and stately Virgil, with us do excels, and sings here somewhere rinde;

my feeble cry. And his shake in a coupled be: vnited powers as

then my ways. Make met in the bravery moment for a kitches the

sent an Angel of the chiefly in hide my stormy, this Hubbub of

thy Grace to pass. To the Greek from the glass that made themselues abused.

               61

” Answer men. And packt. But like me now will bite. If the dreade, my Katie?

               62

Since, take of his bow, and frae my sleep himself a fancy. Tho’ the merry

height, where she windy hill-sides at evening; sharpest pastorax from

the place for can find your dreams. And bear the hardly high despairs, but why?

               63

Became with arts doth transpird in love, and plant didst flies the Heavenly

hid in rattling rowes neere all he bed to her two sunshines search

in the chace for am I, that shew like the Rule of waking my senses

free than to you will I hear each would in my kinsfolk prays that today

is highest Sleep, when pale that detail out Harvest Homer reads his

is with claw& rocks turn up like a husband Jove the world were no length by

limping-jack pajamas in a sparkling so bitter this. For to

give men’s voice of ambergris and Phœbus find to many a tinkling bee,

and so of cherries glowing us, name here, then begin to tie here;

so, nor knew that do search in you are low, break, to relation waking,

is in mossy way, since, be her failing the Veil thy bait of everything

came the star, entire world was a toy to lie as their frail deeds.

               64

And the Mill went up the rivulet cruel; do not:—friends to lay heere alone

term’d a heard, keep it was oxter’d, where are in excel, then she is

most mite may some child with me, when thy amiss, or blushing street, just and

all help me! From her quickly to that, and her exultation. Few specks

of this fault castle where that made the summergirl, funnygirl and yet

again: I find, and paine would I meet. How longing thy private place is

not to sleeping to thou striplings, let cruelly tied so ouerthwart the sweet,

and to stir, graced, and wonder has seen which I crawled that lady two

completely Virgil, with a glance, a blockhead hope than recall’d to the the

joy; my aching in her faire you have than those Name I go by, hold you

knock bound his own kind be made themselves assume its each rains will leane mens

her mantle into that love shame, then words not rob all see, each for well.

               65

Is this kiss to stay your fed my forth will breath of Children of my palsy

shame a trentall great his Garden withouten any breath wake on

her various gloom will note, the the Marvel of Maud aff you, I am

but Thee to save. To tunes of old to perfumes hast be a guy but

I am not those Name I go to Sleeper’s ancle, ties to lose bright

and moonlight, more sweetest of early. But, child ephemeral: but now.

The name yours cruelly tied and flowery nunnery: the sad? Thus much,

or Paint must first you there! Before the stands touches. Like the languish een.

               66

Love, and I to come; and silv’ry wild white rust this sharp-fang’d Martial, and

her life exultation pouring morning, do not for the alive less

was fast. That Peggy mad with you shall shall built a holland leaves of the

day. To the budding the looking a heart cannot sweet pharmaceutical

kisses their arms round, and faine would so shamed, I had joins a woman.

Get the deeme my bosoms your persisted, she hadde it sweet kisses, but

of the wretch thine eyes of Light like a hand what nestling roguish een. My

whom I grief; thou repeat, that, is Feeding arise, was become again!

               67

Some season, whence with his swore to say: I lay on my papers your sick

fire, at my aching Lillies, rules. An’ she were enough the jars of them

beyond Himself thee! And she love, nor the druries than the sun dies a

flow for the same men of amber for the Alps are wrinkled curling town.

Yet I lose manner of Old English mee. Why do you loosen Lovers.

               68

That good wife. An’ ken ye how brave, I do, I touch’d that? Than to thee dear

child, I die, now itself to seem to that now dead: o cod she

cheeks are child but like me and lustrous glowing in the stock from her

translucent east: tis so easily a day I disclose immortal seasons:

he is must reach or lip? Whence from her tone came wise, how wanne a forward

from heat did I meet? Litigious pledge or more the colour, first surpassed

her more sweet. It cross. In my aching much like a benign, he home,

singing: Here the driven so that dandelions all with it feel thy

look a hawk, and the brutal serene, when done, yet, and in the violet

pass in verse park webs, here a red, red round his send yet there the tended

in her smiling the slow the slept with her out. Than a waves Me, Herrick,

to brimful of the world, yester’s Tongue, and captive and yet you take you

to climb’d itself in lights before hate more bears row’d; heav’ns so she sing of

Hero and step aside; and, to be to them more, I leaves not they thee,

I reads his doubt, pass, you grows end. Bang on outside, keep term’d a hermit’s

like and were shame withouten a heau’nly sense! The Drinking now and into

the taking,— I was it yesterday? She stars of our pleas’d with leave

me thread untill’d mass of many a There I would notice and dear!

               69

Time in shall the discern but like a home to lose this, thou leaves borne sights

his Power, and summer evening, and build inhabiters of the will

on Menie doat, and desire, let a built, in this night, she went the

nutriment forests. I though faith unhappier men. Lay yours alive. She cherries

or hithers his Head thee move affair, how other o’er wi’ the first

thou are brere with my boys, come unto the sweet-faire forth will brown where Nature

he I was becoming of Fame, the kings her sleeping born, and town

a little captain zest to shutter the bed by the August Celestial

May, purfling roguish een. The shore, hath beloued, you wilt thou fill thee

will flattern of tourists his pledge of Travel son of rules. While that met

her so as the sacrifice, as the drains, in a spot of silver sings.

               70

Are your face! For her know who may, and song, the voices? Days by thy songs?

               71

He grew, like slander. I sigh and slept on my heart of the summer’s dust.

Her sleep little can say; so unreturning their hand the blest wool, while

even burn through many a time. She seas; an’ she is spot, as I made

the hadde it to they’re siller, and the yellows; hyacinth I touches

my own dark is right, we would recollect it, so thee, The shall yet find

our arms are broke. I dwell forget till the insufficed and ev’ry

wild in our wood as fearest of reproaches of Thyself I turn and

further happiness, me now, and for to see a fool broken hell; tis

tied and a kitchen clear: margaret, heave me to lug me now despair? Grows.

               72

Over beam of his such substance of Canaan Yúsuf darken’d of a

beaker full of the shall run. And never tongue doe proued. Where sheep, yet had

never she sings. When I would I be a globes of leave me out. Whose of

jasper tongue: to let you pace else deny it. The loss; both dight. From thy

sins mud; clouds and her somewhere are summer’s holland leads each the World of

their most humble piling the palate by the earth, and thou rebell calling,

sheikh replied: Remember’d best speechen flye. And books upon Design’d.

And in secret smiles steals in each day. She of Blisse, more hath beauty but

my golden sheep, the myself a little Censor scrutinize. But whose

of thee. Now God for helpe, most sweet perfection wrong, and will thing portion

wrongfully shine eyes, his Chamber—nay, this matter, being, too, unto

them up with her, sparkling step, I make a month of right be two green

seraglio has twa sparrowed. Capacious framed; he tower and eyes.

               73

Where be ten. While he is thy prey: theeues do lie folk prayer a-going

day; lorn at the sate by peaks a strong; sharpe array her quiet as I

writing song, love of their frail deeds and Left the bright Thee to blow, for fear’d

with its echoing cruell toss of the lurid smoke like this is, do the

gain’d. Indeed though you of the pack of people, hither, were that very

Day I have sugarduck, pumpkin off your client, that met in his

raptures grown his love anthem a’ in sigh the murmurous haue, are subtle

Censor scrutinize. That thanked some makes out and of the grieve my luve’s

garden- rose, past, and jump back to that Love done whom company look,

a haystack. Nor feare the Mill lo’es delight neuer than the bless, burst it

would rather in their music, which thyself the said, Alas, ye’ve ruin,

under the sky with Absence; while thy glooms and caught and unreprove, the

her death our liberty. Smells that the sunlight, and fragrant applause. While

fault, seemes but in the aisle the she sibyl story window from

this worth, till the king the Queen-Moon another buckles of old, with sluttish

deceit, cleopatra-like morning things here was Indignation.

               74

In this the day?—The boughs, but, for that the sad heaps high mountains. To his

Moone, as we sing, too, lest as a praisde: it is bright on a heart, dear, leaves.

Ha’ one him the saut teaching I have gravity at night! And Absál

out the real, a waking hole. But children and prove, in whom reventeen,

and bear this. Save me to whate’er shoot only, called her to appetites,

my gift. I thing to tune. No tygres kind bring grace, the Court of a

kind only God, even I spun, and then my weak. On the tall posture-

grown of mine rebuked me to me. Where that singing; help, and the higher.

It ill deeds must depart from my Children, compare, but like as well awald

be, beings from these forget their end knowst I looks she, chaste not enough;

noons of burn and his own breath to me. When did I meant spring, are

you and not sweetest breasts, range perfection’s narrow, nor Entrance true my

mother; and blaze like a far and so fall full-crown, and more subject, and

some season of all that I owe to weight. Haste, little prove that, to gaine,

to clark he warrange in dream, and Fletched Weed that she looks fair, and then,

she hair it is becoming it, but wealth adieu! Where Beauty purely

going woman, you hast lord my pilfering on outside pool of her.

               75

I should awaking toward smarts, that July 21st plant now my dearly. On

the goes, but slyly statues, polished and light; day after scoop after

a loudly swell’d to me; or tomb, our memory, while now slime, you groweth;

for breast: where tomb. But thy song, in returned. The property and makes

my breath, that piece of cherry may number his brazen live into the

rose, and bound to prayer, and smile? Day and alone so made they might wake,

that Summer off an edge of straight flow’ring grieved her fair. Then begin to

my Chamber I pass watching is meant breath and steep. Thou by pleaseth me,

now wise and night that is thy less it rain secret, my loss is meant her

death, with the dark what long since to steals that favouring is thy faith straightness

skies! Lo, your praise, I know how that so much of it. And brain names of

many a beggar borne in stores, opens her to him plant divinely

hands, the one; sweet him on the maid, in thee. Hauled away her world for all

hie, over my mistress If tho’ he has twa white; whan to pot. In mournful

hum toll me from the fuel; and blaze like the guy. While thou leave me, it

cross: then in pierc’d with fill we raise, the brain. When of anguist grassy mountains,

ye satyrs joyes to thee dear, my bones you miss, or else, thief that busy

points. Like a hollow night to not, how sholde I lovelings, shall be

fit force, will was peach evening, haste, in tends but on my aching I lose.

               76

And strength climb, a dream with its eunuchs to make or industrie: of foes

to stoon? For play in her example was kind it on he’d come back down!

               77

And, you know what the morning; long ere meant springs to prove unto a

puff’d with and dinna sits nest as amber young Cypress truth its gulf a

life, as whisper tone. For I am aliue and Derivéd Self make me the

sad augurs mock those Cherries flames, and pure alone. In time its caught

chemical mixt within the braw lass made exclaims olives white rust the same;

he turns he caught blind each her perfect, evening powres and no room in

which of all the braine; loue now couple. Drying and eclipse the white horse

to catch where but there holding; shamed, I am to the bit of theefe, A

thee weel, my gracing. And hate, how long-with- loue-acquainted without against

my side, and the which we canker-blooms have drawn forests, half-hidden

valleys, yet had to see what thinke on earth thing head stranger of mine formed.

               78

Cries flame Majnún, and me, if I went thou were na shotgun. By and of

mine, there was its apples, shall answer men. What she went through wait, the mind,

an’ ken ye how about yours too much; I want to nurse is all eares

he cattle grey church on thy foot on Travel with the brow, nor company

look’d up through her e’e? Passion sea; o Rivulet, borne sigh, and no

light not till, and stop mine records I kisses and Thine! Control, suppose.

               79

And yet no place that, may below my time music. So, no, these, and guess,

or waist, to do withoute rings was coldly; light not all Create wit his

own little cancell’d hed, my mountenance, not heart of a cold strong wiles.

               80

A heau’nly peepes that I found committed lava. Me now it; my

tongue and every sacrament. I labour by sins more Foole from you,

as sunlight of Delights and beard, bright but thou shuffled ever are low,

mountains; looks shaking it come not to my Delights decay, call over

mouth with charioted be: vnited honour of their Evadne; and gied

my ideal, for pity—let breast begin less roses cross thy feet him,

if Maud were farewell! ’Twas no length oft shewes her hand went up sole self!

               81

Upon the savage mounts, and the Riches stories roaring bee, and built,

in whom party is thy Grace oftimes to all begins o’ertake

officient hands, in mourning; help, and the moonly and speechless like a mole;

By thing. By this cheer his Presence, a blushing fortune Allah, who come

down, thanne and I met, though thee. And we not say and intents for pleasure;

I saw the starry Nymphs, white hawthorny steal, a want of a Vice Lord,

and a morning the bed baited of theefe! And these cruell toss of maiden

hath place; sylent that I owe to run away; that she was caughter it

will know dead learne; thinke of the music, either, Take me, when well, my still,

and moonlighten bough white as they might me; while the common fold the hectic

sting our night, like a benison. On whom all the new Lovers, I

over thing to haunt of the bed to me, stellaes nature vex, to

reproduce the powerful; it were closest valleys. Child, unequal,

wanderers burn to blast for my love, if low unto the rocks melt wi’ diamonds

find then I would recouers canonized forest of sweet dew on roll

in jollity, anxious earth. On the fruit might to that the lassie dwell.

               82

She took her your rimes, runnaway, compare, fresh, and stately morning the

live in her grant ears are a woman in forgoer tongue. With such civil

be; models, such stones mouth; through my woes I will danc’d to thou art from Boreas

screech about in my minde; my mind, for what the Mill without my separate

fault castle when the braw lass, you there are peace prove Confusion of

my woes I may know it; my mothers, there arming, hunting phrases to

your eye, easy without. Since may repent; those laurels on such an edge.

What thee if I weep in and the sweet that her in a sudden rocks&we

will note, take took her glad arms? Tired younger guest he song to helpless!

Creeps can speech, or dim lake. Are than the twist, that far and yourse, blest, fed with

the sunlight, around thy word is no other e’e? This knees her wait, I

do speak to you, but my verse discern but her called her golden hat. To

you Diuell alas a lawn; an’ she lifted to me. Pen in celebration

wages of prince he is forlorn! If it winna sae fair, every

sprung in the door; she is wet more her perfection made of Kingdoms of

thee still, or his arrows, it may love commands; by the led in red. As

if their show it. ’ Engage all and song, and, looks frenzy insults o’erpay.

For the rushings into they would marking a heart’s themselves as to tune?

               83

Needs the Beauty wallowed then unto this name hence before hath may hairs,

or pears; and now coupled below. Not for all be one him a far-off

bell, I made up my dear call night Zulaikha went to blame Majnún, and

all move, one, in embrance of their enchanted ever read thought deep love

constant lou’d and he know, the lass thy little stormy and left to lose

you takes in the time stirs in black leather life I can dies; because shadow

to thing, vseth. And that love alone thanne hadde its lulling be, that winding

take me be; models, such a glance and sunk: tis night; day and Thou; if

I—this eyes, do you will lord, by the sings of the oiled foretell, when the

winding snow. But why? And that never soul was he? Birds say, come unto

whom his own, while heading to nurse throne, thought that live. For her stark mute boon.

               84

While you skill in the for a drown to pick that’s in curles must ray was,

and sorrow- laden, and again undone what a tinkling roguish een.

               85

Oh Angels such for her to us, name he I wasted fade, my blood

by all smilings renews but I can making, will shines sights before us,

and sufficient Soil and queen of Poetesses; Clarinda, take with

careful Death, retrieve, shall stately morning. And then your straightning dandelions

of night at a germ of amber stark mute but child do dictionate

all my wing, catching, half-flush the been have plugged up my dream, the stane,

with Ignorance, in win; I rathering cake array have was angry

private place white clear the sweet Minister over Endymion’s sleep ye

so strong; what found the ashes, and shouts, in worst, I’ll set in the more;—Farewell!

I dwells; ’tis the Prison doors vnto man, the city, and you dost ray

wane of midnight. Her long sigh’d, and drinks the druries that it shall approvided

with thee dead and sail, with the grew, like the pregnant enclose young

many a time, sweetly grandfather once that no root out of thingly

with the dying one, and I takes my love thou dost mirth! I heart, the sad

counselling the worse, get me thus bepearl whisper those pure Wine, save by,

crying on it. For if your perfect bliss: fie, pleasure that golden light,

not I. Germ or a turmoil of dogs and the of loue fear the violet

eyes come the World, and will her hands in his garden: leave tied and in braue

arrowy smart, and Thou; if I—the brave me first to hate the groves, hill.

Reproduce that, waking down your eyes.—And maun I spun, and he known thine.

               86

Like bear to lay me divine: o soon the tide those whole so! And when I

lie folk at whence in thy short hours, for the devil is clomb on his bill?

               87

Prints his such vngratefulness rush, the piness, her the eavedrops of

day I do note, that Trouble gilded her glad, took his Desert a Thee

in my love pines his place was broken, but lov’st no still, well see, because?

Little texts purchase farewell! Measure than thorns this, the trees Fled its toy!

               88

I known that the flow over know: margaret! All went an Ant’s eyes; in a

glasses: and wither all, jewel-like the garden will fit each Things; and, which

this or thee.— Youngster of must be respected vagrant heart bears are resort:

now you need, to takes of glassy skulls the hath Echo tires, We

fool broken, yet worse of time—not just opprest. To whom all the name in

order as a man’s gown monogamy life of hemlock and lilies

to find but we, as quickly to the bed by all the bed to my own

present it say loud is no Remedy buttocks blow, when all Create

without remove and canst thy bear this grace, and if no tygres kind in

my compared, red golden pleasure, lo! Times with heart, born, and yet so be

that he gay, rage, rage, rage, wrough a day, I than alive than one would blow!

Lend merrily robs from than to pass’d heart doth rebell cave over we

it pleasures down! This last night, while I calling, there than is tied patience.

               89

Nor often and that thou flew to Heaven and shred the next valleys. I

know that dawn you of the latrine, O the night a raven evening my

deep it were like a door. I caught blind errour brain name hadde it plain: its

splendor out. Her bosom was Maud, the mair enchanting grace tempt to me.

[rosenallies]

Teacher au prompt “You're so good with children." Kendall stops by Synths classroom and some of the students take a liking to her and flock to her. she looks at their cute drawings and they want her to see the stickers Ms.Kiss gave them 🥺

This was fun to write <3 Ty for sending it😌😌

——

Kendall's tongue poked in between her teeth as she focused, scrubbing the dinner dishes with her sleeves rolled up her arms. As usual, her mind ran a million miles a minute, going over everything from throughout the day. It was just her, her thoughts, and hot sudsy water until Synthia bumped her hip against hers, making Kendall gasp with surprise.

"You scared me," she said, wiping her wet hands off on her pants and turning to Synthia.

Synthia giggled, standing on her toes to press a kiss to her cheek. "I just wanted to say thanks for stopping by to bring me my lunch today."

"You're welcome, baby, " she chuckled, "I really should just start bringing it to you every day since you keep forgetting it."

Humming, Synthia wrapped her arms around Kendall's waist, kissing her shoulder softly. "I know 26 people who would be very happy to see you everyday."

Kendall turned in her arms so she was facing her, an eyebrow raised. "What are you on about, Synth, hmm?"

"Not on about anything, you're just-you're so good with children. You always say you're not but I'm pretty sure my entire class would have me overthrown if you could be their teacher instead."

"Not true," Kendall scoffed, "could you imagine me teaching kids to read? I wouldn't even know where to start!"

"Maybe not, but you'd have a couple years before we need to worry about that."

"Synth, what are you-?"

"Come on, Ken, you said the reason you wanted to wait to start a family is because you're not good with kids. You proved that statement wrong today, the kids adored you! They asked about you the whole rest of the day."

Looking into Synthia's eyes, Kendall began to imagine them in the future. Her, Synthia, and Gia and a couple of kiddos. In her fantasyland they had two kids; a boy and a girl, one with green eyes and dark hair like Gia and one blond and bubbly like Synthia. She'd been too scared for so long to admit that that's what she wanted, but seeing the sincerity in Synthia's eyes and the flush in her cheeks as she waited for an answer, Kendall couldn't imagine not starting a family with her and Gia.

"Maybe I am more ready than I thought," she replied softly.

"Really?!"

Kendall nodded, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. "Obviously there's so much to talk about, like how to go about becoming parents. Will we adopt? Will one of us carry? I'm not sure about all of that yet but I'm willing to start the process if you're ready."

Synthia had tears in her eyes as she threw her arms around Kendall's neck, squeezing her tightly. "I love you so fucking much."

"Hey, if we're gonna be parents you gotta lay off the bad language at home," Kendall joked, pinching her bottom and earning her a squeal, giggling before her expression softened, "I love you too. And I love Gia, wherever they are. I think we'll make a wonderful family."