Puppet Associates

Hope was Burrow's substance, where he poured his time, Pedalling steadily. Intended path made smooth for those in legacy line. Sliced through wiry roots, Watchguard Wombat dug safety spaces. Safety albeit empty, claw shortening scooping to prop up progeny. Plodding stoically. Muffled praise from mollycoddled recipients who forgot to congratulate wombat. Chirps trill between ear orifices, a cheerful bell, twinkling creek, Thrill of apparently sucidal bird ledge leap, harks updraught as capacity for flight. Her name is Rainbow, though only he calls her so. Optimism is Burrow's skeleton, firm fragile scaffold not broken Bloodstream good Samaritan convinces him those closest know that he would give everything - devoid of return, satisfied in striving. Fallen from insipid clouds, risen to a wide arc - Squadron Observation squawk when the sun reemerges. Related inseparably, sweet candy stripes are strings, Harnesses of translucent hues. Rainbow holds a cauldron in her wings Shivered salute feather plume pom poms, her support Altitude albeit not born to Chimes a celebratory chortle, rain's finishing touch Firey refraction stacks medallions of precious metal. Magnetism draws, claws refuse to dig, Burrow closes. Academy of affluent fly close to burn point, - risk being scorched Hypnotised by the increments his digits indicate. Prospective friends and followers fill up his hollow Lucrative lure curates karma, demanded by lorikeet Marionettes dance, tuned to bushland command Pinnochios pulled by Burrow's Rainbow.