Pilchard Paul washes his wellies in the rushing river.
\nThe skies sadden as the wintery wind keeps coming.
\nThe sodden soil is certainly saturated this stormy stroll.
\nThe loud lion roars raucously as the gloomy grey clouds close in.
\nA clap and a crack as frightening fracturous light lands on the loam.
\nLion licks his colossal coat, wringing wet from the ridiculous rain.
\nSuclulent scent sniffed by the Lion’s lust for fantastic food.
\nPilchard Paul runs and rushes toward the car on the corner.
\nCrafty clever cogs Lion lives not far the pride in from the periphery.
\nLow lionesses spring sporadically seemingly out of nowhere now.
\nRIP Pilchard Paul. Fishermen. Father of 2 bonny boys. Tim and Todd.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Pilchard Paul washes his wellies in the rushing river. The skies sadden as the wintery wind keeps coming. The sodden soil is certainly saturated this stormy stroll. The loud lion roars raucously as the gloomy grey clouds close in. A clap and a crack as frightening fracturous light lands on the loam. Lion licks his … Continue reading Pilchard Paul<\/span>