Don't try to steal from my library because I can turn my head three hundred sixty degrees. I appreciate any contribution but if slighted you won't hear my retribution.

I’m the death that rides at night And sends the small ones wild with fright. I, silent, pounce upon my prey before they know I’m on my way. I kill so fast there are no moans, and when I’m done, I leave the bones.

In making a word wordy, The shell of my former self has now become A dog of the snow, with gruff voice.

A lot of people pay to see me, even though they only see the tip. I'm shredded, cut, and good with dressing, not too much, just a bit. Lastly, I'm known for a movie with a ship, turned out to be a great big hit.

When puddles linger where the rain has fled, And fields are soft beneath your tread, Frogs hide in my quiet halls, Roots creep within my walls, I’m the earth’s clay blanket, thick and spread.