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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
You’re looking naughtily guilty,
So…come on…. what’s 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,
You’re happy, crazy, tetchy, grumpy,
Sometimes rather rude…

You never miss a chance to graze
Or chew on something new,
And whatever sentiment that holds for us,
It’s merely worthless to you.
And so I’ve learnt that all this stuff
We have, and love and keep,
Is just some stuff that doesn’t mean much
And most of it’s quite cheap.

You’ve 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 we’re due to leave
And look up, with the whites of your eyes,
It’s what some dog’s 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 I’ve never chewed the sofa up,
Or devoured my own pooh.

I don’t headbutt my friends when I need food, or hugs,
I call them on the phone, and meet up with them for lunch.
And you’d do that, meet and eat, were you some other place
And your friends would butt you back,
Or give a lagamorph embrace.

My ears don’t move to tell you
How I’m feeling every minute,
My posture can’t tell you either,
It’s 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 don’t, but it leaves me simply awestruck.

You see, I couldn’t live in a burrow,
Or survive on what you eat,
I’m not good in small spaces,
Being kicked by other’s feet.

I can’t chew roots,
Or dig with my hands,
Or throw myself in the air,
Twist, and spin and gently land.

I can’t go to sleep in the afternoon,
Cos I’d never get anything done,
I’ve 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
It’s just the sweetest sight.

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

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

I never knew that you’d really be happy here,
And I’m not sure I’ll 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 we’d be friends-
It’s the most enlightening thing,
To realise that all life forms are
Played on the same violin,
And you my friend, and I…well…
We’re simply different strings.

Written by Jay in honour of Bertie

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