The Tweety Bird, A Parody Options

[Guest_Zeus²_*]

THE TWEETY BIRD {Abridged}

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I, Tweety Bird, perched
weak and weary,
Over many  attempted attacks by the putty tat
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my cage door.
"'Tis some visiter," I muttered, "tapping at my  cage door --
                                       Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I, Tweety Bird remember it was in the winter,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; -- vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow -- sorrow for the lost cat -
For the rare and radiant tomcat whom the angels named Sylvester -- Nameless here for evermore.

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter
"I taut I taw a putty tat. I did!!,  I did!!! ",
In there stepped a stately tomcat of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, the cat perched above my cage door --
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my cage door --
                                        the cat.. sat, and nothing more.

Then this black and white feline beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no putty tat,
Ghastly grim and ancient tomcat wandering from the Nightly shore --
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
                                      Quoth Sylvester "Nevermore."

But the putty tatt, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered -- not a hair or whisker fluttered --
Till I, Tweety Bird scarcely more than muttered "Other true cats have leaped before --
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
                                      Then the cat said "Nevermore."

And  Sylvester never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my cage door;
And his green eyes have all the seeming of a tomcat, that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
               And the putty tat shall be lifted -- nevermore!

[ Edgar said it was ok for me to try this. ]