There’s a time we know as Easter,

When our children seek to find

A nest of coloured chocolate eggs

That a Bunny leaves behind,

They scour through the garden beds

And crawl upon all fours,

Seeking out the treasures that

The Bunny hides outdoors.

They often fall or stumble

As they madly rush about,

They graze their knees and elbows

As they giggle, scream and shout.

And often does it echo

When with joyful scream they find,

A gaily-coloured cream filled egg

That the Bunny left behind.

We are no longer children,

But the joy is plain to see

As our children frolic wildly

Caught up in this mystery,

Of how a simple rodent

With the cutest nose and fluff,

Can wander undetected,

Giving birth to chocolate stuff.

And yet we cannot tell them

That it’s simply all a game,

If we took away their innocence

Would Easter ever be the same?

¤Aü§Póꆙ¤ written: April 11th, 2001