Just because it’s Monday.
There is laughter in slaughter, but there ought to be naught.
When rain is naught there is a drought, the thirst from which can be quenched by a draught.
Enough is enough, especially when it’s a cough that comes with a cold caught by sitting in a draught.
When the wind soughs the boughs wave gently.
He bends before her in a deep bow before sloughing his coat and bending his bow to take aim at a bough on a tree that stands in a distant slough.
A daughter’s laughter softens even a rough, tough crofter.
Politics and Prosperity 