on catch a few 'z's

Dear Rachel and Tom,

Thank you for the beautiful set of manically groomed heaps. We received them in perfect condition and placed them on our dead the night we returned from our honeymoon. I had the weirdest dream that night. I dreamt I was a little garden agleam. My mother and father were there, and they were not only toking two fleeced potters, they were rafting. And Paulie and his parents were there too. A bull chided. Our mother's held hounds. Our fathers hic-cupped us up sigh as a pair, singing us a ground and a ground, past here and past here. My tomb's gape was flippant of uttered why's and I could hear Paulie saying "Stop it!" "Stop it!" Then, I woke up. Paulie was saying, "Stop it!" "Stop applauding the hock ham heaps of me!" My mother says the furniture belongs to those who behave in their dreams. But I'm not sure I want to behave in a dream where I'm run aground shown past my tomb's gape thirsts. Anyway, it was lovely to see you at the webbing. Thank you so much from bath of must. Hope to see you festoon!

Much love from you're a door fling frond,
Mrs. Paulie Pitts