¤
“Make it so.” The captain said,
As light bounced off his shiny head.
He crossed his legs and ate French bread,
And pulled down on his shirt of red.
¤
A vinter’s son from Eastern France,
Enormous nose and stoic stance,
His velvet voice sure to entrance,
He’ll quote Shakespeare and ballroom dance.
¤
A master of diplomacy,
His hobby archaeology,
Both Enterprises D and E,
Respond to his authority.
¤
His savoir-faire cannot be beat,
Commands the Flagship of the fleet,
First contact he would oft’ complete,
A twenty-seven species feat.
¤
He played the flute in “Inner Light”,
Stabbed through the heart in a barroom fight.
He persevered through all despite,
His Borg assimilation blight.
¤
The Federation’s greatest pride,
The finest crewmen at his side,
With he, I’ve loved and laughed and cried,
This astral trek’s beloved guide.
¤
Explorer’s heart and poet’s soul,
Engaging, wise and in control.
¤
You always know what’s in his pot.
Tea.
Earl Grey.
Hot.
¤
Buttercup's House 
This one is truly great!