This potion, this philter will leave her with feelings of love's aguish fever, undownable comity (supernal and... comet-y), unmatched as a harmony weaver.
Bill Burke would eschew les bonnes bouches (they spoiled his comportment as 'louche'); he was not periphrastic... of few words, not bombastic... in the end, highly strung -- not farouche!
Dan Drough hated the scurf on his collar... made him squall a vociferous holler; for mere piffling whiffling gave him riffling sniffling and the senses of raw mawkish squalor.
'Refudiate' is (to me, Sis) tmesis -- a re-born palin-sarah-genesis; displays of dull hebetude reflect mental habitude -- thus portending a plangent kinesis ?
If beaux coo trop beaucoup it's too much to expect it sforzando, as such emphatic an anguish would swell the boys' languish for her soft impetratory touch.
"Namaste !" he'd greet, with afflation, this wretched disheveled relation with holes in his gaiters like astrobleme craters -- clothes fringed with a frayed crenelation.
He trundles rundlets and barrels of wine in shallow hallows of Saint Valentine; no other alterity is left to posterity of his weal than the wale of the vine.
Major Doughmeaux's majordomo's arranged with his whilom wife (now they're estranged) to risk belling the cat and start telling him that there's no 'armistice day' truce prearranged.
A felonious monk, Marc Antonius, parsimonious, mean and simonious, in a treed sylvan scene was unmasked and his mien showed a grimacing moue polychronious.
Doole was changed right away to delight... Once the fossicking unearthed her bright Orange dress ( gladrags gaudy), Lyrics (risqué and bawdy) Eve's sad heart palpitations took flight.
When Wooster asked Jeeves "Will you buttle?" he accepted, with aspirate ruttle; for a shrill ululation -- or a 'Wilde' osculation -- would be so hyperbolic: not subtle !
The worsted suit suited her suitor (in the vanguard of fashion ? --zoot-suiter !); but misogamist Carrie said she hated to marry, trepidatious his suit wouldn't suit her.
Onomancy, I fancy, is chancy in predicting life's 'top-notch' for Nancy; these inchoate notions -- raise nether emotions ? Well, you may as well trust cleromancy !
Logological student Sam Pepys "so to bed" with Deb Willet he leaps; there he lies (not mendacious) with his meiny (bodacious !) -- late arousing, the slugabed sleeps.
There's many a man in a meiny who predicates parsing is brainy; whereas baking a cu-rry (such as chicken tandoori) gives him no qualms to think of as zany
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