Fires grow old, and meat gets cold,
And bugs, we never can kill!
Time's cold wind hissing up our backs
Reminds us each to make fast tracks
And head straightaway for the grill!
Spits do turn while the far stars burn
And people and jerky strips age!
Shiny ship land, they offer peace --
They have no backup! Let's start the feast!
And grind a ton of Sage!
We know well what cooks can tell --
If you would not roast Rabbit, make stew!
And today their fragile flesh and steel
Have made my children a wondrous meal --
No meat in a year or two...
And today our wonderful coats and belts
Are made now from Space Rabbits' pelts
Our slippers and gloves are, too!
But we who are reaching out for the stars
Are learning to read Rabbit script
And hope for tomorrow, and raise our eyes
Past that puny Moon to the opened skies
In our brand-new Warren-tied ship!
For all who've tried out of history's tide,
Salute for the Husbandry team!
And the old hag smiles at her children's seed
That doesn't get carried away with greed
And keeps Coney Island green!
[Let the Eagles land! We can handle 'em!]
copyright ©1992, 2000 by Gerald L. Bliss. Usual Disclaimer applies.