Franklin sang my praises of that no one can deny, To gladly accept a pardon would not be a jive lie, In the end the bald contingency had their say, Yet I am still celebrated in a very special way.

My size by nature makes me hard to see If creature I am not, listening I may be I am for humans a vexation, for machines a contradiction Though in both I can pave the path to affliction

One Bunny, a hunter, several birds, and a cat, just a few of the thousand all under my hat. Known hater of carrots, though I’d chew them for jokes. Been gone since nineteen eighty nine, so I guess that’s all folks.

I am the music of life, And though I bear no voice, I can be seen, heard, or felt, Whatever may be your choice.

Hark, thou humble orb that dost hold secrets untold, encased in alabaster, thou art life's own mold. From thee springs the dawn of myriad forms, a fragile fortress in which something small warms