When the hours grow long and the day goes stale
And I start to drowse at the end of the day,
I will sometimes glimpse a fluffy white tail
Round a corner to hurry on his way.
The sight awakes in me a curiosity
‘Tho his urgent business is not mine.
Where is he going with hopping velocity?
The wish to know my mind will entwine.
And, without rising from my lazy chair,
I will start upon my eager pursuit;
Into the hall, out the door, I follow there,
‘Cross the lawn, under the hedge, and down the chute.
I land with a bump in darkness all around
And must listen intently for his footfalls.
I, a blind puppy, crawl on the ground
As, led by scent and sound, adventure calls.
Blinking into the glaring light, I emerge
Where all in exaggeration loses scale.
Colors in wild pattern and hue splurge
To disguise and to reveal the quest’s trail.
Did he go Right or, mayhap, to the Left?
Under the six-foot peony, I look for clues,
Pushing aside leaves of considerable heft,
To locate the first path I will choose.
Nearly underfoot, I hear a sudden shout
From a tiny table and those gathered there.
Carefully, on my knees, I go to check it out;
It is a tea party set for a solitary chair.
None sit on that seat, as it hops up and down;
I believe it would never permit such an use.
The clamor from dishes, each other to drown,
To bar anyone listening from hearing their views.
Red saucers on one side and blue cups the other
Bicker about the differences between them.
The timid green teapot is caught in the bother,
His efforts to serve both sides only condemn.
Well, here I will not find my missing rabbit;
These dishes argue less for reasoned debate
And more for satisfying their ancient habit.
Back to my search before it becomes too late.
‘Tween the small pine and a towering grass,
I notice what may be that rabbit’s footprint.
I guess many creatures may this way pass,
But this earthy dent may be my best hint.
“Halt. Where are you going?” booms in the air.
I stop, for a dangling chain has challenged me.
“You will not follow my links from here to there,
Unless you possess the correct passkey.”
“I am just following the rabbit,” I say,
Searching my thoughts for how I might get by.
“I think that recently he came this way,
And left a message for this path to try.”
“Do you butter a sandwich on bottom or top?”
The watchword question is posed for my reply.
“Inside” is the answer that into my mind does pop,
And I am certain that response will never fly.
“Why do you ask?” I query as I think,
“Some like butter and others not so much.
With a sandwich, it is important what to drink.
I like milk, but water is okay in a clutch.”
“To see the sights I herein protect from all,
You must to us like-minded be proven.
You will not believe what dwells in this wall,
If to our ways you are not yet behooving.”
“Oh, well, can you at least tell me if you saw
A rabbit pass through your sacrosanct gate?
He wears a vest and often thumps one paw;
Oh, and by his watch, he is always late.”
“That snobbish rabbit is not welcome here.
He is so eager to please all whom he meets,
His words never mean what they would appear;
We must add so much to expose his deceits.”
Some other path then I will need to find,
If on my quixotic trek I would persist.
All ways equally unlikely for one so blind,
Arms out, I twirl myself into a spinning twist.
As I turn and turn faster, wind lifts me skyward
And carries me dizzily elsewhere to drop.
The landscape and its residents are all blurred
Until I alight in a dainty ice cream shop.
Oh, well, I think, my rabbit to me is now lost
When, at the counter, I see his furry butt.
Here is my sought after chance him to accost;
So I set my course at him coolly to strut.
But betwixt us, on one wheel, cycles a mouse
Juggling cones to deliver to the tables.
As he metes out his wares, all can hear him grouse
Of the illnesses his sugary trade enables.
“Why do you provide a service you so abhor?”
I pause to ask as he rolls over my toes.
He says, “If they will eat, let it be my store.
The money helps me live with their stupid woes.”
I hear the shop door’s bell give its small jingle
And see the rabbit’s backside retreat outside.
I reverse my way through all here to mingle,
But it is a swim against an incoming tide.
At long last, I make it out onto the street,
As odd in architecture as ever was seen:
A ranch house next to a tower of concrete,
Shop, church, and factory fill the wild scene.
The buildings brag to each other of their worth
And the needed preferment to occupy their lots.
Each thinks he is the reason Man is on Earth
And that all others to him should cede their spots.
“Did you see which way the white rabbit went?”
I ask the sidewalk stand who calls out “Next!”
“Depends if you’re buying; I gotta pay rent.”
A hotdog later, she points me to the triplex.
For one in haste, he takes many a detour,
I think as I scan the posters on the wall.
“Sex, violence, and fun amongst the gore,”
The middle advertisement does shrilly call.
“No, no, sir, you want Action with a Punch,”
The right playbill declares for his fifth sequel.
“Be serious,” argues the last of the bunch,
“Without 3-D, you films are never my equal.”
How do I guess that rabbit’s cinematic taste?
Was it a movie for which he was tardy?
Is that the reason thru unreason him I chased?
Does nosiness always make me foolhardy?
For tonight, this adventure will end now
As from my chair I get up to go to sleep.
In bed, I hope to get some rest somehow
Unless, of course, I start chasing black sheep.
And I start to drowse at the end of the day,
I will sometimes glimpse a fluffy white tail
Round a corner to hurry on his way.
The sight awakes in me a curiosity
‘Tho his urgent business is not mine.
Where is he going with hopping velocity?
The wish to know my mind will entwine.
And, without rising from my lazy chair,
I will start upon my eager pursuit;
Into the hall, out the door, I follow there,
‘Cross the lawn, under the hedge, and down the chute.
I land with a bump in darkness all around
And must listen intently for his footfalls.
I, a blind puppy, crawl on the ground
As, led by scent and sound, adventure calls.
Blinking into the glaring light, I emerge
Where all in exaggeration loses scale.
Colors in wild pattern and hue splurge
To disguise and to reveal the quest’s trail.
Did he go Right or, mayhap, to the Left?
Under the six-foot peony, I look for clues,
Pushing aside leaves of considerable heft,
To locate the first path I will choose.
Nearly underfoot, I hear a sudden shout
From a tiny table and those gathered there.
Carefully, on my knees, I go to check it out;
It is a tea party set for a solitary chair.
None sit on that seat, as it hops up and down;
I believe it would never permit such an use.
The clamor from dishes, each other to drown,
To bar anyone listening from hearing their views.
Red saucers on one side and blue cups the other
Bicker about the differences between them.
The timid green teapot is caught in the bother,
His efforts to serve both sides only condemn.
Well, here I will not find my missing rabbit;
These dishes argue less for reasoned debate
And more for satisfying their ancient habit.
Back to my search before it becomes too late.
‘Tween the small pine and a towering grass,
I notice what may be that rabbit’s footprint.
I guess many creatures may this way pass,
But this earthy dent may be my best hint.
“Halt. Where are you going?” booms in the air.
I stop, for a dangling chain has challenged me.
“You will not follow my links from here to there,
Unless you possess the correct passkey.”
“I am just following the rabbit,” I say,
Searching my thoughts for how I might get by.
“I think that recently he came this way,
And left a message for this path to try.”
“Do you butter a sandwich on bottom or top?”
The watchword question is posed for my reply.
“Inside” is the answer that into my mind does pop,
And I am certain that response will never fly.
“Why do you ask?” I query as I think,
“Some like butter and others not so much.
With a sandwich, it is important what to drink.
I like milk, but water is okay in a clutch.”
“To see the sights I herein protect from all,
You must to us like-minded be proven.
You will not believe what dwells in this wall,
If to our ways you are not yet behooving.”
“Oh, well, can you at least tell me if you saw
A rabbit pass through your sacrosanct gate?
He wears a vest and often thumps one paw;
Oh, and by his watch, he is always late.”
“That snobbish rabbit is not welcome here.
He is so eager to please all whom he meets,
His words never mean what they would appear;
We must add so much to expose his deceits.”
Some other path then I will need to find,
If on my quixotic trek I would persist.
All ways equally unlikely for one so blind,
Arms out, I twirl myself into a spinning twist.
As I turn and turn faster, wind lifts me skyward
And carries me dizzily elsewhere to drop.
The landscape and its residents are all blurred
Until I alight in a dainty ice cream shop.
Oh, well, I think, my rabbit to me is now lost
When, at the counter, I see his furry butt.
Here is my sought after chance him to accost;
So I set my course at him coolly to strut.
But betwixt us, on one wheel, cycles a mouse
Juggling cones to deliver to the tables.
As he metes out his wares, all can hear him grouse
Of the illnesses his sugary trade enables.
“Why do you provide a service you so abhor?”
I pause to ask as he rolls over my toes.
He says, “If they will eat, let it be my store.
The money helps me live with their stupid woes.”
I hear the shop door’s bell give its small jingle
And see the rabbit’s backside retreat outside.
I reverse my way through all here to mingle,
But it is a swim against an incoming tide.
At long last, I make it out onto the street,
As odd in architecture as ever was seen:
A ranch house next to a tower of concrete,
Shop, church, and factory fill the wild scene.
The buildings brag to each other of their worth
And the needed preferment to occupy their lots.
Each thinks he is the reason Man is on Earth
And that all others to him should cede their spots.
“Did you see which way the white rabbit went?”
I ask the sidewalk stand who calls out “Next!”
“Depends if you’re buying; I gotta pay rent.”
A hotdog later, she points me to the triplex.
For one in haste, he takes many a detour,
I think as I scan the posters on the wall.
“Sex, violence, and fun amongst the gore,”
The middle advertisement does shrilly call.
“No, no, sir, you want Action with a Punch,”
The right playbill declares for his fifth sequel.
“Be serious,” argues the last of the bunch,
“Without 3-D, you films are never my equal.”
How do I guess that rabbit’s cinematic taste?
Was it a movie for which he was tardy?
Is that the reason thru unreason him I chased?
Does nosiness always make me foolhardy?
For tonight, this adventure will end now
As from my chair I get up to go to sleep.
In bed, I hope to get some rest somehow
Unless, of course, I start chasing black sheep.
