My tribute to the genius of Shakespeare
Sonnet 1337
The squirrel's nostrils fill with the spring airs
As it hops around the greeny grass ground.
Squirrels are concerned not with human cares,
And find materialism unsound.
The squirrel is as happy as can be,
As the wind blows in its fur and buckteeth,
When it frolics from green grass ground to tree
Hiding in the newness of nature's wreath.
Squirrels nickname happens to be lucky,
And as you most assuredly will see,
Mainly there are just too many Bucky's,
but some twisted irony there must be.
Squirrel jumps in ecstasy from the trees,
Fate lands Lucky under a Mercedes.
*I believe this follows pretty good iambic pentameter and the Shakespearean Rhyming Scheme for Sonnets. PLease point out any errors or suggestions 