Once upon a January dreary, an important football game drew neary,
A team of mighty Ravens spread their wings and roared;
And came the mighty Patriots never bitter, says Ochocinco, he of Twitter,
Our Team's focused not on snow or score;
The Pats are ready for their visitors, knocking on the AFC door
Standing in the way of Super Bowl victory Number Four.
"Slow down," says Coach Bill. "Only this game. Nothing more."
Ah, distinctly, I remember, it was back in bleak November
When the pundits labeled the Pats as ghosts of Pats teams yore.
Yet to the Jets' and Broncos' dismay, valiantly they reached the game today
Another battle in the quest for Super Bowl victory Number Four.
But before those victory marches take place 'neath the Gillette arches,
Lie one more challenge, that of Baltimore.
And here in Lowell, 'neath a fresh blanket of snow,
Is a link to poet Edgar Allan Poe.
It's a tavern, to some a haven, that played host to Poe, post-Raven,
In the shadow of City Hall's spire, across the street from Goodyear Tire,
Lies the Worthen, its flags a-wavin', 'neath a sign sporting Poe's Raven,
Once a House quite uncanny, it's where Poe, it's said, met Annie,
And would frequent several times in days of yore.
Trips to Westford and to Lowell, all to meet with his good "friend,"
And by-the-by, where did the vaunted Raven's author meet his end?
And so tomorrow, the other Ravens, we will pity, watching here in the Mill City
As the Ravens' vaunted players, just the latest Brady nay-sayers,
Watch the Patriots march down the field and score.
Yes, Tom Brady, king of Uggs, will make short work of Terrell Suggs,
As darkness falls once more on Baltimore.
Have the Ravens, by perchance, heard about our guy named Branch?
But before their team is collared, watch for Raven hits from Marcus Pollard,
And Ray Lewis, well he'll still be a boor.
And of course the Pats will heed the braggard boasts of Edward Reed,
You know the Pats collect the quotes of Baltimore.
If the waiting makes you sick, keep the faith in Belichick.
He's withstood all of the crying, from the jealous like Rex Ryan,
He's the mastermind, you know, who found a way to stop Tebow.
He's focused on ONE GAME, nothing more.
Bill's got tons of playbook manuals, and don't forget there's Josh McDaniels.
Belichick's got his sights fixed firm on the Ravens of Baltimore.
So tailgate with your dips and tacos, Bill's ready for QB Joe Flacco.
At press conferences, they'll all play nice, but trust me, there's a plan for Ray Rice.
And to no one but themselves they're beholdin', but they're ready for Anquan Boldin.
On Monday morning, they'll be sore.
And Welker, Wilfork, Light and Gronk? Their horns on Monday we'll be proud to honk.
Just keep perspective Pats: First beat Baltimore.
And so the Ravens, never flitting, will be sitting, will be sitting,
Surrounded today by the mighty Gillette roars;
Their eyes will have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming
Watching as the Pats rack up the score.
And our souls from winter's shadow shall rise soaring, higher more
And our spirits will be lifted as our Pats seek Super Bowl victory Number Four!
Check it out on-line at the Sun's website here: http://www.lowellsun.com/local/ci_19794538
Course, my favorite version of this poem remains:And if you're worried about the game, don't be: our Brady's ready:Needless to say, go Pats!