Fine Is Neither a Road Traffic Fine Nor a Fin

fine isn't a road traffic fine....it is a fine of a finest fin favour flashing feverishly FINE Fine? Fine is a shrine, Not a mortified prawn, Fine is a tail, Of a cloud wisp at dawn, But a fortified wine could build a fortress tunnel, With undergrowth measuring the radius of ten thousand American stadiums, The ocean dimension span of the world, And space itself, Wise to swim and not to dim as the only thing to remove is the undergrowth, Like underwear, Or a patio that has grown tall weeds, Nevertheless it is wise not to sink or sail around aimlessly, When the simple carrying of a plain shopping basket will bring home the eggs, bacon and squashed pudding ingredients, Wow Yawning on legs wins awards for dogs and guinea pigs, But not for cats as they are too busy saying "chicken" and running around, So that is that and that is this and this is that, A hat on a seal is looking through the windows of many a coastal cottage, And peering properly is bound to give the correct annunciation to excite even the towel rails, bowls, and cups of lemon carbonated tea with milk, Oh looming looking leering liking leaping laughing lemurs, Amazing aren't they? They certainly think so! But an automated switch of an automated atomic cake combustible could halt the proceedings in a flash of circling clouds, And that would be very hazardous for the fishes as they are all dressed up and walking down the roads to the celebrations and beats of the finest fin, Fine is a nine, A numeral, Fine is an emotional of innumerable activities of synchronous sliding shapes, Fine is an archived peel of a fruit from an Astronaughts claps, Drapes driving down daring dramatic drives, Diving, Delivering dreams, Fare not a fork of flame that enjoys plunging into a cross crystalized chrysalis, And take no tail from a beast in a tube of chamber in rubber casing, Now all dress appropriately and sing la la la to the carpet cleaners Z Astronomically Z at 3 fine bees passing 10 finesse of fin flash. X