Weredog Tart (15)

   
   "Weredog Tart (15)"
   
Siria swiftly bolted with quicksand dismay,
Slaying a man, though she was elegantly ethereal in a weredog way;
Moreover, a mellifluous sound did trumpet from justice-seeking angels around,
And the Pittsburgh morning was full of an iridescent look and sound--
Rainbows gleaming from a petty rain, giving limerance to her love of Steel City;
Thus, she dashed to Lance and Dad, both so metaphorically pretty,
Yet like a soul with social phobia, she didn't know how to completely explain
A death done out of loyalty; still, would this scenario be a harvest of sublime gain?