Anything writ in a blog is dang lucky to get there. Therefore, things shared in one of these scripts is the result of some overflow, crashing out of books, illustrations, colour, painting chairs.
A tide of digital numbers printing in mind reading with eye now.
A crumudgeon whirlwind.
Befalling a herd,
In the night of an'ev'nin'
By the poltergiest light of a cotton gin millin'.