Traversing the fields of quixotic Spain, Cramped and afflicted by strong muscle pain (And nerves also on edge as he trod, For this was his première abroad!,) With sore feet and stiff will For an in loco swill Of a vintage Los Llanos Among Spanish hermanos, The maudlin French flâneur of old Turned long-distance wine-taster bold Divagated for a moment or two About le bon temps qui ne revient plus, Prior to work as a sommelier 'mid many fine wines and much goose pâté, When his days were but to sit, sip and saunter from amorous trysts to the odd encounter -- Then took a false step and fell on his hips In a textbook example of first-timer's yips.
"Unless we care for the ecotone along the intertidal zone while it thrives," said the new oceanology professor to the first-year class as she pointed at graphs with the undeniable svelteness of a veritable ballerina, "sand crabs won't take long to die -- and I don't think we'll live long enough to see their palingenesis;" and as her oftentimes garrulous, crustacean-loving female entourage was struck dumb as the sententious piece of information sank in, one could almost hear the sighs of the enamored, pining freshmen.
In a fertile case of germ-innate tmesis, the plenti-seed-ful soil harboured slumbering weeping willows in herbaceous hebetude till the skies cried for their plangent palingenesis.
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