Creative cerebral craftiness coaxes...

Childhood campy chimera curtain call

subsequently hinting (based on accuweather)

the approach of blizzard squall
so burrow under quilted cover y'all

until warm temperatures arrive when springtime

ushers social media platforms

buzzfeeding earthlinked instant karma

jump/kickstarting linkedin outlook
twittering romance in the air that's zall

mother nature holds in store
after Old Man Winter

(lame as a duck this year)
attempts to make one last hooha.

Arctic bitter dead of winter cold
ice sole ace shun finds solitudinarian

to ejaculate (not prematurely)

shiver me timbers

cursing fate (and diagnosis of

schizoid personality disorder) for being alone
while polar vortex deep sub zero temperatures

freezes each lovely bone

excellent existential prized memory
swimmingly recalls boyhood

listening to drone

of various and sundry
en deer ring fauna
extant amidst greensward,

where imagination hath flown
to imaginary Eden lyft ting

uber a maize zing ears
cocked while doodling towards

Mother Nature's petsmart crafted chorus

flushing out soundcloud

queen of happy campers
with bees zee winged

wonders as they hone

suite tracks unstinting

well crafted aural presentations

intended to entice

a mate opposite jejune
targeting their search

nsync with one or another

favorable counterpart, this buzzing

destiny could favor a loon
or some other apropos biological entity

(or perchance if desperate

to mate) coon sitter

another species including the manifestation

of microbes on the moon

whereat boys and girls bounding,
exclaiming, and yelping
joie de vivre asper when counselors

blow whistle call at high noon
hour of day iz lunch, thence resuming

their made up fun and par lore games
such as knight in shining armor
dashing off to save

damsel in distress signaling

heroism asserts itself really soon
sans SOS and favorite ringtone

(emulating Fisher Price) tune

of potential prince

where young love doth Flickr
oblivious to a similar situation, aye lichen
to avast Marcy's playground.

Such panoply a prediction

forecast by Doctor Punxsutawney Phil

a blue oyster cult meme burr
thus, in layperson terms
six more weeks of winter for 2023 -
so stay warm to stave off feeling offal
bodes ill for species who clamor for warmth -
supposed tell tale shadow

spelt "N+I+L+L"

and remain in hibernation

if opportunities allow,

and be thankful for not bing forced to mill
around seeking warmth

(case in point a street person),

but ye and the big or 'lil

body of warm flesh adjacent to thee

(this day and age -
unlike stereotypical storybook account

about Jack of all trades and Jill

exhibiting traditional garb

many kin did instill

gender preference a moot factor),

or take stock, stock and barrel,
how other creatures great and small

burrow underground under a hill
(shaped like an upside down pineapple)
or reef amphibians, mammals, reptiles...
instinct can remain

20,000 Leagues Under The Sea
a fictitious place evoked by Jules Verne,...
hmm...maybe he might breathe
courtesy of an atavistic gill,
who would downplay brouhaha
to avoid any cavil;

nevertheless any objectionable content
forward complaint to yours truly
stating point of view
before one Norwegian bachelor
heads back to Lake Woebegone

come the end of April.