
RL intrudes: We just got whacked with the
first big snowstorm of the season. Roads
were lethal (I know; I was on ‘em).
Well, in sonnet #18 the bunny got in some
opinions about winter. Thought I’d give her wolf
husband an opportunity to weigh in.
(I’ll be over here fighting with the snowblower… :- ) )
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Note: The Thursday Prompt that got this one written
was 'fall.'
LINK TO: Text Version
<<<< To Wolf and Bunny Table of Contents
first big snowstorm of the season. Roads
were lethal (I know; I was on ‘em).
Well, in sonnet #18 the bunny got in some
opinions about winter. Thought I’d give her wolf
husband an opportunity to weigh in.
(I’ll be over here fighting with the snowblower… :- ) )
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>>>>> On The First Real <Fwump!> of Snow (#21) -- Spoken Word <<<<<
By Fred Brown, Nov 24/2011
fwbrown61
Copyright 2011 All rights reserved, all commercial
infringements prosecuted, website display permission
available upon request. Non-personal distro is infringement.
Recorded on Mar 4/22
Note: The Thursday Prompt that got this one written
was 'fall.'
LINK TO: Text Version
<<<< To Wolf and Bunny Table of Contents
Category Music / All
Species Wolf
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 2.72 MB
Apart from the risk of freezing sensitive paws and footpaws, I shall presume that most furs can and will think the same. Could easily get a sonnet out of them on a [romantic] winter vacation at some fabulous ski resort somewhere. Why not?
'S what fur is *for*, folks--insulation--ergo explaining why human beings hunt and trap and kill fur-bearing animals. I'm Canadian; boy, do I know about this. There's a dark note to dwell on, that stands in contrast with our furry attitudes towards our glossy pelts.
Got future [dark] story ideas brewing on this topic (that provoke shivers). But as for this sonnet, no no, none of that here, we are merely invited to imagine just how much fun these two are having in those deep, dark, snowy-snowy woods.
As in, a *lot*. Arroo and squee. Shhh, don't fuss. :- )
fwbrown61
'S what fur is *for*, folks--insulation--ergo explaining why human beings hunt and trap and kill fur-bearing animals. I'm Canadian; boy, do I know about this. There's a dark note to dwell on, that stands in contrast with our furry attitudes towards our glossy pelts.
Got future [dark] story ideas brewing on this topic (that provoke shivers). But as for this sonnet, no no, none of that here, we are merely invited to imagine just how much fun these two are having in those deep, dark, snowy-snowy woods.
As in, a *lot*. Arroo and squee. Shhh, don't fuss. :- )

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