In Which I Attempt What My Spiritual Forefather Could Not

The Bard's regrets and melancholy stir
Me 'crossed the centuries; ne'er could he pen
A paen to a creature without fur
Or feathers, at whose sight he might have been
Moved to his greatest poesy: I name
None other than Velociraptor, that
Most swift and vicious predator, whose fame
Reached not to Shakespeare's time. Speak not of cat,
Unless it's cheetah, and speak not of snake
Unless it be a rattler -- nay, its noise
Disqualifies it, too. O hours awake
As I have pondered on the subtle joys
Of contemplating this iambic beast
Do yield naught to me, but here's this at least.

- Dared by ye Wenche of Sauce