Sweet, sweet, sweety mint, honey treat, brewing tea, dropping pennies into sea, r i p p l i n g, ripply ripples unwrinkle lemony leaves, how many giggles can these tickles make you wriggle as we speak? "Three," said the old pastor. "Two," said the spell caster. "One," said the zen master. "Shhh..." said the wind faster t i c k l i n g, tickly tickles bring us together in a feast. Oh dear, you're beyond this mind w i of mine, n d y so much better to be free, than bounded to this tree, w i n d y . . . .