April's Angel Allotted An Airy Attic,
Erratically Excusing the Essence of Ecstatic

they Banged the Bell and Bound a Bond,
to Start and Seize the Sound of Sonde.

the Vast Vanity and Vantage Vanishes our Vacillation–
Falcon Flew in the Fallacy and Fantasy of Fabrication,

In the Innate Immortal of Imbue Infatuation,
to Chance the Chaotic Chancy of its own Creation!

they Zapped Zilch to Zip a Zealously Zing,
Pierced Piece of Piano Phoned a Ping.

Yearning a Yes to Yield a Yapping Yodel,
They Tip-Toed in Tempting The Trance in Total.

He Halted His Hault in the Heath–
Daring to Dream the Destined Desolate Death!

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