There's a bard in my yard

[My desert companion Robert the Telepathic Gila Monster, in his fascination with the human race, has culminated a long study of Shakespeare with this cross-species emulation.]  

How is't
though all we teach our young

be naught but dreams we teach ourselves 
that we

in the throes of later-aged ambition

to be more upon the stage

than aged babes 
(domestic ciphers, suckling, passive, small accounted in the public eye, 
sweeping dust to dust and daily circling mile on mile)

in quiet contemplation

hidden watch the generations flow?

As everywhere impetuous glories

spill from young and restless minds 
to cause calamitous clash

and magnificent ornament of the soul,

the children uprooted on life’s playground

by the rousing slap

and challenge of the intellect’s 
swampy doubt

think not of quiet corners

but of noisy triumph on the field!

Demanding that we set aside

The limits of our scope

And take them on a joyous ride

Of certitude and hope