A bunny we'll call Moppettop once found
himself in some strange field; the grass was blue.
His floppy ears paddled a sea of sound
he'd never heard before. The flowers grew
on woody stalks three times their normal height.
They bloomed to platter-size, and smelled like rain.
He crouched there, motionless, until the night
came on in deep maroon. Almost insane
with dizziness and fear, at last he slept
and dreamed green meadows, red and golden flowers
that smelled the way they ought. When he awoke,
the magic of the intervening hours
had dissipated like magician's smoke.
Incurious, the rabbit looked, and leapt.
2 comments:
MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE!!!! you need to write a book
Hi carin, thanks for commenting! I'm glad you enjoyed the poem. I've often thought of trying to put together a collection of these poems for a chapbook or actual book, but never have. I've also thought of writing children's books, but unfortunately I don't know any good illustrators. Still, I daydream about it sometimes. :)
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