Just because I love the sound of this word, it fills the mouth with Merlot, it rolls and it flows, it holds streams and lava and shifting sands. Today the snow clouds blew in and stuck themselves in the corner of the sky, tumescent oysters and dirtied pom-poms alike; but they hurried themselves away without letting their flakes fall. Maybe tomorrow?
I once got hooked on 'Chantilly', partly because of a remembered song by Tommy Bruce(?) - the gravel of his voice contrasting wth the delicacy of lace ... thanks for making the connection.
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