Ode To A House Rabbit

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Ode To A House Rabbit Empty Ode To A House Rabbit

Post by Happy Hoppers on Thu Jan 21, 2010 3:58 pm

Ode To A House Rabbit


You face pops out cheekily from behind your favourite chair
Youíre looking naughtily guilty,
SoÖcome onÖ. whatís destroyed back there?

I wonder how this world of yours is actually perceived,
You watch us in our human ways, from the aspect of our knees.
But this place is not a burrow, with the smells and sights of home,
With others you can recognise, a culture of your own.

You sleep and snooze at different times,
And survive on simple foods,
Youíre happy, crazy, tetchy, grumpy,
Sometimes rather rudeÖ

You never miss a chance to graze
Or chew on something new,
And whatever sentiment that holds for us,
Itís merely worthless to you.
And so Iíve learnt that all this stuff
We have, and love and keep,
Is just some stuff that doesnít mean much
And most of itís quite cheap.

Youíve learnt the time that we wake up
And when you get your grub,
At half past seven, twice a day,
You become the sweetest Cherub!

At times you sit on our doormat,
Just as weíre due to leave
And look up, with the whites of your eyes,
Itís what some dogís do, I believe.

The quietness of your presence here
Adds only to my own
Need for calm and tranquility,
In my heart, my head and home.

And actually, we do eat similar stuff,
And I can be moody too,
Although Iíve never chewed the sofa up,
Or devoured my own pooh.

I donít headbutt my friends when I need food, or hugs,
I call them on the phone, and meet up with them for lunch.
And youíd do that, meet and eat, were you some other place
And your friends would butt you back,
Or give a lagamorph embrace.

My ears donít move to tell you
How Iím feeling every minute,
My posture canít tell you either,
Itís not programmed to exhibit it.

I rely on an extensive vocal range
And you chirp and click, and cluck,
Do we communicate by astral means,
Or just by luck? who knows,
I donít, but it leaves me simply awestruck.

You see, I couldnít live in a burrow,
Or survive on what you eat,
Iím not good in small spaces,
Being kicked by otherís feet.

I canít chew roots,
Or dig with my hands,
Or throw myself in the air,
Twist, and spin and gently land.

I canít go to sleep in the afternoon,
Cos Iíd never get anything done,
Iíve sometimes got up earlier than you though,
To catch the morning sun.

But now you only eat when we do,
And come in to nudge goodnight
On your way down to your warren-room
Itís just the sweetest sight.

I never knew that you would love
To climb up on my back,
That youíd enjoy Elvis, documentaries
And my sleazy music tracks.

I never thought youíd sit with me
While I do my work,
Then jump on my desk, hop about,
Make my computer go bezerk!

I never knew that youíd really be happy here,
And Iím not sure Iíll truly know;
So I live in hope that what I see
Is as true for you as it seems to me.

I never knew that weíd be friends-
Itís the most enlightening thing,
To realise that all life forms are
Played on the same violin,
And you my friend, and IÖwellÖ
Weíre simply different strings.

Written by Jay in honour of Bertie


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