repost: originally posted April 6, 2006

Creation's Time To Play

Down below the scattered mulch
beneath the Wandering Jew,
lay babies small
with no fur at all,
slick with the morning dew.

Crouching down beside the nest,
gingerly I seek to find
a tangled womb
in need of more room
cradling nature's kind.

Barely moving, crowded brood,
bodies cupped together rest
safely inside,
together abide,
waiting for Mother's breast.

Each day brings a changing view
as their fur begins to grow,
tawny brown
soft as eiderdown,
warm in the melting snow.

Springtime's birth brings life again.
Creation's time to play.
A plan divine,
sweet as apple wine,
as bunnies hop away!

Poetry by Kathy Lockhart The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 558 times
Written on 2016-05-29 at 21:05

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Very nice, Kathy. I enjoyed to rhyme scheme.

bibek adhikari The PoetBay support member heart!
The crux of the poem -- the last stanza -- adds a new dimension to the poem. Good work here.

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
This is sweet and appreciative, it made me smile.

Coo & Co The PoetBay support member heart!
Woo-hoo! Bunnies! :>) (Sage Coo is pleased)
We are also fond of rabbits at Coo & Co, though we've never seen a nest of babies such as so magically described here. This is a pleasant and tender poem – and we like the rhyme scheme, which brings to mind one of our own favourite forms, the limerick. We like the similes too. Applause!

I live near a forest on the outskirts of town. I see a lot of bunny babies hopping around these days. :-)
Lovely poem.

JK Fisher
Such fun! My neighbor found 8 little bunnies in her yard shed. How wonderful!